”Ok I have an idea. I'll get the pull-ups but you get three strikes. Once you’re out of strikes we forget everything about pull-ups and go straight to diapers. Are we clear?” Jim asked. ”That's an unfair deal. Three strikes per week then we have a deal.” I bargained. ”Per week sounds good, but you're going to have to commit to the deal,” he says. ”Fine, I will,” I tell him confidently. He grabs a package of pull-ups and drops it in the cart along with the pampers.
He then pushed the cart to the bathrooms where he ripped open the pull-ups and carried me in. ”Put me down!” I yell at him while attempting to kick but it must have felt like a pillow because he wasn't flinching. ”Do you want that to be strike one?” he asks. I stop struggling and allowed him to carry me to a stall. He put me on my feet and gave me the pull-up. ”You want me to put it on now?” I asked. ”If you don't want to wear that I got the diapers outside waiting for you. Besides, it will just feel like thick underwear.” he tells me, but he's not the one wearing it. I decide not to keep fighting back because I'm not risking strike one on something like this. It's been 25 years and I'm back to diapers. Would have thought I don't wear these till I'm 90 but I won't get that old anytime soon. I take off my shorts and slip on the pull-up. It surprisingly did feel like thick underwear. I pull my shorts back on and pushed the door open. ”You didn't have to put the shorts back on,” he tells me. ”It's common decency to wear the shorts. I don't see you going to a store with just boxers on.” I stated. ”Fair point.”
We both walk out of the bathroom and he picked me up and back into the cart. He started to push it towards the toddler part of the clothing section. It was just a few things like shirts, pants, and pajamas. I guess he wanted me to wear the pull-up so I don't mess up the clothes when I try them on.
”Ok do you want the tiger or the deer shirt.” he held up two shirts, one is solid blue with a smiling tiger and the other being solid pink with a sleeping deer. ”I'd rather be dead than seen wearing a girl shirt.” ”No one would care because you're only 2. Hell, you shouldn't understand the concept of girl stuff and boy stuff at this age.” ”It doesn't matter, just give me the tiger.” he hands me the shirt and I take off the one I was wearing. As I was trying it on, I kept struggling to put my arms in the holes. Jim must have seen this and decided to help me out. Once it was completely on, it didn't feel too tight or big. It actually felt like a normal shirt. ”Does it fit?” he asks. I shake my head yes and take it off. ”I'll just get a few more shirts. While I do that try these on.” he picks me up and sets me on the ground with some pants. I take off my shorts and try my best to put on the pants. Somehow I repeatedly almost lost balance because of putting one leg in the leg hole, so I decided to sit down and try it that way. As I was sliding them on, I could see Jim trying to secretly take photos. I made sure no one was around me and I gave him two middle fingers and a bright flash filled my eyes. He must have been in be middle of taking a photo. ”Stacy is going to laugh when she sees his.” I overhear him saying, but I just ignored him and went back to my pants. Right when I got them on I buttoned it together and they were a tad too big on the length side. I got myself up and walked around looking for Jim.
After making multiple left and right turns I found Jim looking at the pjs. ”Hey Mike which do you prefer?” he held up three outfits that looked like animal costumes, ”You can be a dog, a fox, or a bear.” I wasn't sure if he was joking or being serious with this question. ”Is there any other ones,” I ask hoping for a plain colored one. ”Oh so you want to be a princess?” he asks holding up some PJs with a tiara on top with a ruffled skirt. ”Just get the bear,” I tell him. He grabs the bear outfit and walks back to the cart with me close behind. As we were about to end our clothing spree, he pulls the back of my pants. ”What are you doing?” I barked. ”Just making sure what size they are.” he got a good look and he let go of my pants. ”I'm going to get a few more like these. While I do that you change back,” he tells me giving me my old clothes.
I was sitting on the floor when he got back with a few pairs of shorts. He picked me up and laid me back in the cart without warning or hesitation. ”Can I walk on the floor?” I politely ask. ”No, I'm not letting you walk barefoot on the ground.” ”But Jim I wanna walk.” ”I'm sorry but wait till we get back to the house.” ”But Jim” ”No buts now hold these I get something else,” he asks me to do but I threw the shorts straight to the ground. ”You know that's it. You young man have gotten yourself a strike and a timeout when we get home,” he yells at me. For some were reason I started to cry. ”I don't want to hear it Mike,” he says. ”I d-d-don't want to cry Jim.” I attempt to say with little sniffles in-between. ”If you want to walk so badly wait here.” obviously there was nowhere else to go since I was stuck sitting here. Jim came back with a pair of sandals and he slipped them on my feet. Thankfully the fit and he threw them in the basket with the other stuff and pushed the cart.
He paid for everything and took me out of the cart to try out the sandals. We walked to the apartments where an elevator was already open with people in it. Jim must have forgotten what almost happened earlier because he stepped in. Not wanting to leave his side I get in with him. He probably does remember but is making me do this as some sort of punishment.
The elevator was starting to make me dizzy and nauseous with the repeated stops and how fast it rose. The last person got off and then it was our floor. As we got off, I felt too sick to walk, but Jim made me. He opened the door and Stacy was folding my sheets together.
”Oh, you poor thing.” she cooed. ”I know he was whining a few minutes ago about-” Jim started to rant but was interrupted. ”Not you, Mike,” she said approaching me. ”You look a little green sweety.” she cooed.