Mommies and Daddies

Me and then Andrea?  Ladies should be first.  

Been pissed off being stuck in a loop of silence, waiting for a response from a bureaucracy that seems to have forgotten we exist. For the past two years, I've been fighting for something as basic and necessary as better medical supplies. Despite repeated requests to my Urologist and my advocate, my inbox remained empty. Two weeks of total silence finally pushed me over the edge. I decided to stop playing by the "polite" rules and started using the tools that actually force movement: Direct escalation and congressional advocacy.   Sometimes, you have to stop asking nicely and start documenting the failure. Here is the process I used to get results finally: The Double-Down: After two weeks of zero communication, I sent a follow-up email and an "Every Secure" message detailing the entire two-year history of my requests. I didn't just complain; I created a clear, undeniable paper trail showing the neglect. The "Senator Card": I reached out to Senator Patty Murray's office to open a formal casework file.  I got an email back for the patient care advocacy patient advocacy wth a case tracking number after I emailed our Senator

The Christmas Party Favor. By Alec Leamus. Sleigh bells and Christmas carols tauntingly reverberated in Don Parsteed's head. He tried to drown them in his fourth cup of coffee as he watched the snowfall. Past due bills and personal debts were piling up and now even his job seemed in jeopardy. The vicious cycle of worry begat distraction. This created more worry which had downsized him into a five by five windowless cubicle. Worse was the timing of this downward spiral. The company Christmas party was tomorrow, and his boss was fiercely pro family. The CEO, Mr. Arnold, understood divorce but did not seem to tolerate solo workers with no attachments. He translated a solitary man into an absent work ethic. "A family man is a responsible man." He’d bragged. Don saw many careers ruined that fateful evening while others drank eggnog nonchalantly. He remembered the former head of research Carl Lakewood. In the middle of his divorce he had attended the annual Christmas party with his new fiancé. He wasn't fired but he now resided in Brawley, California alone. The last time they spoke he was building communication motherboards. Unfortunately, Don's situation seemed even worse than Carl's. And now his relationship with his daughter had worsened. Initially he had retained custody but presently she was living with her mother. The change was good for the young girl, but it could not erase her behavior of previous years. Three years ago, she had almost single-handedly ended the entire Christmas party. An embarrassment that took Don months to extinguish. She arrived late, dressed more appropriately for a rock concert than a family gathering. And even at age fifteen she seemed quite sexy and grownup. She smoked incessantly. She bullied the younger children, flirted shamelessly with one coworker and picked a fight with another. Hotel management repeatedly stepped in to complain about the noise. It was horrifying. Worse still was the fact Don could not control her. This caused many employees to shake their heads in disappointment. During the following weeks Don managed to squelch the images from the infamous party. He explained that the stress of the divorce had been difficult for the young girl. Finally, to cover the fact that he could not control his own daughter he lied. He told everyone that Heather was now attending an exclusive boarding school and embellished the lie by adding she was quite gifted academically. Now in the proper environment she was flourishing. Don sat at his small kitchen table by the window and contemplated his fate. The snowfall continued. The Christmas party was tomorrow, and he was a man without a family. The fabrication of his daughter being away at school would not be wise and attending the party alone would seal his fate. He would most certainly be downsized again and eventually dismissed. Last year he managed to stay off the radar by feigning illness but that would not work this year. Don had explored many possibilities in his mind: modeling agencies, school yards and other families. Each one seemed either too desperate or too creepy. He stared out the window motionless as he watched individual flakes plummet to the expanding white on the ground. Then in one swift gulp he downed the remnants of his cup. He turned toward the sink and caught a figure in the corner of his vision. His neighbor, Sarah, plodded through the stretch of yard between the two houses. She spied Don, waved and flashed a generous smile at him. Don felt his legs move and, in a moment, he was chasing after her. "Sarah, Sarah. Wait a minute!" Don puffed. "Can I talk to you?" Sarah turned and smiled again. She had always liked Don and secretly had a small crush on him. She knew there was a difference in their ages. She was twenty-six and he was, well she wasn't quite sure, perhaps mid-thirties? Don invited Sarah into his cold sparse living room. "Sorry it's so cold in here." Don said as he fiddled with the thermostat. "The heater is not working very well." He took several minutes preparing a fresh pot of coffee. He poured. Then he paced nervously, embarrassed by the impending question. Finally, he plopped down and blurted everything out at once. Don explained the financial strain of the divorce, his current job status and his employer's provincial views. "Don, you're crazy!" Sarah broke the uncomfortable silence. "No one will believe I'm your daughter." "You're right. You're right. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have asked." Don sat defeated. "I am so fired." "Don, it's just that I don't look anything like your daughter." Sarah soothed. "No. I thought of that. She wore dark sunglasses. Plus, some of the employees have been transferred to other branches." Don explained. "Or been promoted." He added grudgingly. "And she's been at boarding school or that's what I've been telling people. So, she's changed some. So as far as anyone recognizing her, I think it's okay." Don's tone lifted. "Don, I really appreciate you thinking of me but isn't there someone else? I mean a relative or a friend from work? Well, no that wouldn't work." Sarah trailed off. "I've racked my brain!" Don blurted. Sarah looked over at him. Her eyes moved over his square jaw line outlined in stubble and noticed the bright light from the bay window as it played on his fingers. Don heaved a sigh pushed back his hair. "I am so fired," he quietly repeated. "Don, couldn't I go as your wife, fiancé, girlfriend, sister?" Sarah slowly asked. "No. They all know my wife too well and they know I'm in the middle of a divorce and that I'm an only child. It's all in my file. Someone would find out. It's a strict family only event." Don rattled quickly. He hastily related Carl Lakewood's saga and even added a few others. Much of what he knew was rumor but, in his desperation, he decided to stack the deck in his favor. "We're instructed to bring one immediate family member. That's all. It's private, no boyfriends or girlfriends. My boss is a nut!" Don ended. A moment of silence passed. "Don, I look too old." Sarah stated. Don looked up. "I know you're older. I mean, it's crazy I know. But you could pull it off. It's why I asked you." Don hesitated. "You're cute!" Sarah knew what Don meant. She was only five foot one and weighed around one hundred pounds. She had maintained her youthful looks through diet and a blessing of good genetics. It was not unusual for her to be carded at a club. But Sarah's life was not filled with night clubs or fun. She had graduated early and landed an excellent entry level management position with a marketing company. Within a year she was promoted, and the extra income prompted her to purchase a house in the suburbs as an investment. However, after several months of maintaining her rental property and paying for her apartment in the city; she traded her city address for a suburban one. This had halted her social life and made meeting men even more difficult. The men she did meet were corporate prowlers and not suited to Sarah's long-term plan. She felt lucky that fate had placed her next to Don. From the beginning she had imagined a relationship with him. She knew she could help guide his life back on track. Now this opportunity had opened before her. If she was successful it could plant the seeds of a romance. Their chemistry was obvious. Often, they had shamelessly flirted but never acted on the impulse. "You really think I can pull it off?" Sarah asked. Don's eyes shot up at her with the look of a little boy on Christmas morning. She spent the next thirty minutes calming Don and eased him into the idea that she may not be able to help. "I'll try." She said as she excused herself upstairs. Sarah stood at the threshold of Heather's old room and scanned the crude labels on the boxes of clothing. It had been years since she had been a teenager. Styles had changed but Sarah's anatomy had not. Sarah was quite comfortable with her shape but occasionally felt awkward among more developed women. Physical anatomy aside her success with men had been very good until her career had blossomed. However, the past two years had left little time for romance. Don was the closest she had to a boyfriend. A thought that made her a little sad. Three years of Don's procrastination provided Sarah with numerous options from Heather's discarded past. Minutes ticked away while Sarah tore open box after box as Don wore a path in his living room floor. At thirty-five minutes Sarah triumphantly turned towards the mirror to admire her handiwork. She had chosen a pair of stylish yet childish jeans and a light pink sweater. The sweater was small. It also had an unfortunate effect on her breasts as it made her seem a little flat. Sarah frowned but rationalized it made her seem younger. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and opted to present her transformation barefoot. Heather's shoes were much too large for Sarah. Upon hearing the bedroom door open Don stood at attention. Sarah bounded downstairs to be inspected but stopped on the third step as Don's smile evaporated. "What?" Sarah asked. "No. It's nothing. I can't" Don stuttered. "No. What? It's okay. Is it my hair?" "It's everything. You look too sexy. I mean you look a little younger, but you don't look like a daughter. You're wearing jeans, this is a fancy party. You still have makeup on..." Don's voice trailed off. Sarah was an attractive girl willing to help him. The first person in weeks to show him any real kindness. He felt traitorous by his explanation. The silence was long and awkward. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to do this." Don said. "Wait Don, I have an idea. There were some other boxes." Sarah disappeared upstairs and immediately returned with a box in which the word "School" was scrawled in red marker. "I'll call you in a couple of hours." She said. Sarah grabbed her coat, pulled on her Uggs and hurried back to her house. In a whirlwind of activity, she gathered up beauty products. Sarah's logical corporate mind now analyzed the problem from a new angle. Simply changing her clothes was not the answer. That was too easy. She needed to turn back the clock from the inside out. Sarah imagined a more complete transformation and mentally created a physical checklist from head to toe. In the shower she shaved everywhere. She wasn't going to strip for anyone, but it completed her mindset. The cold snow outside dictated a long hot sensual shower. Slowly she lathered her smooth body. Her fingers caressed her backside and she reached under to feel the hairless track. When she found the heat between her legs, she obliged herself. It was delicious and by the time Sarah had finished the entire bathroom was perfumed with a sexual fog. Sarah continued with a convenient hair rinse which muted her natural highlights. This left her hair dark almost brown in color. Exfoliation followed by a generous application of skin lightening concluded her shower. She opened the door and dried her body. Her skin felt tight and tingly. Still wrapped in a towel she telephoned next door. "Don? I think I did it. I think you will be pleased. No. Trust me. You'll see tomorrow. No, I think it will all be okay. Yes. You're welcome. I don't know...perhaps a nice dinner? Great." Sarah clicked end and laughed. "What a way to get a date!" she exclaimed aloud. In the next few hours Sarah groomed, plucked and repeated the skin lightening applications. It was eleven o'clock before she climbed into bed and dreamed of impressing Don and fooling everyone. "Don you're staring again." Sarah repeated. Don jerked his eyes forward and the Toyota Corolla swerved. "Sorry. It's just that you look so young." Don hesitated. "You don't think I overdid it do you?" Sarah asked as she hinged down the passenger mirror and admired her handiwork. Twelve hours ago, Sarah had found tucked among the boxes of clothing a few random photos of the Parsteed family. The photos were old and faded but useful as a guide. Originally Sarah had imagined a school uniform. Psychologically most people did not see beyond uniforms or badges. This would strengthen her youthful illusion. She donned a few pieces of Heather's old school jumper amazed at how authentic she appeared. She posed coyly a few times and turned her foot inward as she placed a shy finger to her lips. She twirled then giggled as she caught sight of her bare bottom in the mirror. "Panties!" She reminded herself aloud. But they were attending a Christmas party and that costume seemed inappropriate. So, after much deliberation Sarah decided to present herself as a young girl dressed as an adult. It was a challenge and she doubted her final creation. However, Don's overwhelming positive reaction put aside her fears. Sarah had carefully chosen a typical children's ensemble for the holidays. A red velvet dress trimmed in white frilly lace. She was simultaneously pleased and disheartened that the dress fit. The cut of the dress had a similar effect on her anatomy as the previous pink sweater. Straight lines of red velvet that reached to her knees. White knee socks and simple black patent leather shoes completed her trip back to childhood. "No, you look great!" Don said reassuringly. "Now we'll only be here for two hours at the most. I promise. There's a cocktail hour, a few awards, some speeches and then that's it. I have to stay for the awards. My head of department is being recognized." Sarah knew he was lying about the time but smiled anyway. "Okay Daddy." Don's face crinkled uncomfortably. The kind of expression a man makes when an attractive woman is too forward too soon. "I think Dad is fine." Don swallowed as he jerked the wheel again. The Grand Hotel is a lavish downtown destination especially during the holiday season. The foyer features a mammoth Christmas tree whose thick lush pine branches tickle the high ceiling. It is painstakingly trimmed in rich fabrics of burgundy and gold and adorned by glittering ornaments. Beyond the tree the grand staircase beckoned. Its cherrywood banister intertwined with garland, bows and twinkling lights created an atmosphere of yuletide sophistication. Don and Sarah stood transfixed by the opulence of the scene. They halted on the intricate parquet floor and breathed in the aromatic pine. A steady stream of hotel guests and employees maneuvered around them like a migrating flock of birds. The tree was breathtaking. Overwhelmed by the romance of the moment Sarah, without thinking, slowly reached for Don's hand. "Oh, good idea." Don agreed. Foolishness rushed through her as Don took her hand and rejoined the flow. She wanted to explain. She yearned to tell Don she took his hand not for appearances but out of emotion. But it was difficult to speak as Don hastened her past specialty gift shops and dodged hotel guests. Briefly they detoured to a half door and traded tickets for their coats. Sarah slipped her stub into the small matching purse she had fortunately found with the black shoes. The purse was empty except for a few choice pieces of makeup and ten dollars in cash. In keeping with her new persona, she had deliberately left her own identity at home. The absent weight of a cell phone, driver's license and credit cards served her sense of theatricality. Down the stairs next to the garden the small sign in front of the mahogany door read "Breckman Technologies". They both smiled. It was obvious that the letter "o" was popular this evening since the sign sported two prominent zeroes in its place. Don grasped the brass handle and pulled the heavy door open. The private room was dominated in dark luxuriant green mixed with a myriad of brightly burning candles. The candlelight danced in and out of the mirrors and illuminated the smartly dressed adults. Festive ties swung with dark suits and mingled with shapely cocktail dresses as martini glasses chimed. Sarah rallied against her insecurities. The next moment was a blur as Don introduced his way from one executive to another. "Hello! Great party. This is my daughter Heather." Don said. This was followed by a quick noncommittal quip from the executive concerning either Heather's growth or dress. A dismissive nod and a quick handshake completed the exchange. Then the pattern repeated. After twenty minutes Don had exhausted his sycophantic obligations. Punch in hand Sarah sat on a high bar stool. Her feet dangled above the floor. This was not an usual occurrence but in her current state of dress she felt even more childish. She tugged at the hem of her dress and observed a group of Don's peers envelop him and begin a heated debate concerning commerce software. While she sipped, she watched Don's confidence emerge. He seemed to be standing straighter, taller and his voice had become more resonate. Once or twice during the conversation he turned and smiled at her. She had done well. She returned his smile and felt the back of her knees tingle. Her mind drifted to the hours after the party as Don lay her down on her bed. They laughed and shared the joke of the day. They had fooled them all, but it was time to shatter the illusion of youth. She was a woman now. Sarah imagined Don's strong arms caressing her inner thigh. A small gasp escaped her lips. A hard slap on the back shattered her daydream. She coughed and almost spilled the remainder of her punch. "Hey, are you Heather?" the kid asked. "Uh, yes, I mean ya." Sarah snapped herself back into her role. "You're that guy's kid? You were here before, right?" The boy pressed. "Yeah." She felt her suspicions rise. After a pause, the kid spoke again. "You look different." "I've been at school." She shrugged. And with that brief conversation the tension disappeared. Garret was thirteen with sandy brown hair and a small mole on his forehead. "Bored? Wanna play?" He gestured over his shoulder through the large window. "Outside? It's too cold." Sarah insisted. She hopped off her stool and walked past the coffee station and peered through the dark tinted window. In the snow a group of well-dressed children tossed an oversized battered top hat at a large snowman. Sarah thought they looked like small steam engines as they chugged around the yard and their warm breath puffed from their mouths. "It's really cold. I better not." Sarah answered. "It's not that cold besides, you'll warm up once you play a little. It's easy you just try to land the hat on the snowman." Sarah attempted to signal Don, but he was not in sight. She contemplated then followed Garret outside. Sarah's view through the window had been deceptive as many of the children were taller than Sarah. The lively banter of play abruptly ended as they approached. The kids parted like the Red Sea. A large boy walked directly up to Sarah and stared down at her. "You Heather." He asked. "Yeah." "Let's play." He backed up and threw the hat at her. It wasn't hard but her hand stung when she caught it. For a few minutes they tossed the hat at the snowman. Each attempt illicit cheers or jeers. Then the large boy whipped the top hat hard. It sailed over the hedge. To Sarah the action seemed deliberate. "Go get it." he barked. Sarah realized hiding out with the kids was a wiser plan that mingling with the adults. Here she had been accepted and there was less chance of her discovered. Adults tend to ask too many questions. Questions she might not be able to answer correctly. Sarah scrambled out of the yard and into the bushes. The kids darted in behind her. It was dark on the other side of the hedge. The soft glow of walkway lights did not penetrate the clearing. As she leaned over to pick up the hat, they tackled her. The first blow was around her legs which caused her to sprawl out into the wet snow. Suddenly there was tremendous weight on her back, and she felt an invasion of hands. Her first thought was they were playing but when they rolled her over onto her back, she knew something was wrong.

That's like asking what is your favourite ingredient in a cake!  (or should that be banana cream pie). 🤣 THAT I did not know!  I always thought it was on the Hollywood back-lot somewhere. Additional fun GI fact: as Australian kids we were often perplexed as to why there were apparently Kookaburra birds on Gilligan's Island.  The distinctive Kookaburra "laughing" call got hijacked by Hollywood where it was used as a generic "jungle" sound effect on heaps of movies/shows.  They even used it for "Flipper".  

I’m sure for your market you’ll get some better recommendations for specific brands that I could offer from here on the far side of the planet.  Having said that, I find the Babykins stuff to be usually quite well made. Things you should know up-front about cloth diapering: Cloth diapers are awesome in bed where they rarely, if ever leak but they can be quite bulky for day-wear.   They are also FAR cheaper to use in the long run. But… You also have to have good, in-house laundry access and a robust system to deal with the endless washing/drying cycle.  You will have ZERO chance of keeping their existence secret from people you share a house with. Folded, flat diapers are probably the easiest to wash and dry but also harder to wear stealthily during the day.  I tend to use these at night.  If wearing cloth during the day I go for Kins cloth pull-ups or maybe Rearz Omutsu. Things I try to minimise in cloth diapers are Velcro (fails early but some of my diapers have it) and integrated waterproof covers (makes laundering difficult and also fails early, I completely avoid them).  Simple is best. As for the pins, if you can find them, “old-school” fully-steel (ideally stainless steel) safety pins are the ones to go for.  I find those ABDL-styled plastic headed ones to be pretty useless over time.  The plastic invariably goes brittle and cracks before long rendering the whole pin useless. You may prefer “snappi” or “boingo clip” style stretchy rubber nappy/diaper clips.  They seem to work quite well on my Rearz overnight pre-fold cloth diapers.  They also have the advantage of being a tensioned connector, they will tend to counteract the inevitable sag of a cloth diaper as it gets wetter. Don’t forget plastic pants: high waisted ones for cloth.  Rearz are good.