Chapter Description: Stevie apparently got down with something. Follow him as he went through an awful day in his new toddler life. And I was actually sick when I completed the chapter, having most of the symptoms that the character experienced.
My relationship with Jimmy had been fruitful, although he was getting bigger than me. His temper tantrums had lessened recently, and he was on his way to be a healthy 3-year-old boy. Since I still stuck to be a little 2 and a half year old, he gets confused sometimes and questioned why I was still small. He was a smart kid, and he picked things up really quickly. I taught him how to assemble a building blocks into a bridge. Then, he did it much faster than I did. Also, he became really strong, too. Just imagine what kind of tackle he would put on me when he jumped on me.
Nevertheless, he became my best friend. Before I was regressed, I only saw him as just another little kid. Now, I saw him as a companion who seemed to need each other. He always looked forward to spend time with me. I always saw him and Mrs. G to the point where I saw her as an aunt. I caller her Auntie Kim after a couple of months, and she liked that a lot.
However, I couldn’t be with Jimmy all the time. Even that, I would be seeing him within ten to twelve hours, and at most, twenty. The longest that I had been separated from Jimmy was during spring break when I gone on a little trip. Weekends sometimes kept me at home, too. But I couldn’t stand was being separated from best buddy because I was sick. I never liked being sick, no matter what age I was in.
It was about 11 in the morning and I still was lying down in bed. I couldn’t really move at all, and I felt really weak. I wasn’t able to even move my arms and legs at all. My head felt really heavy, too. While not exactly a headache, I felt very lightheaded. I felt that I want to throw up.
My mom reduced me to only a tank top and a diaper. It really helped or I would feel so much worse. I started feeling really bad when I woke up with all the symptoms of a fever the day before. My mom felt my forehead and it was warm to the touch. After dressing me in cooler clothes, she told me to stay in bed and got me a bottle of warm formula. Then, mom helped me to clear my nose by blowing it out. It wasn’t until that day that I felt really, really bad.
I coughed a lot a few times. It was audible. I think the whole house heard it. I was drinking down my formula and I coughed out some of it. Oh, my throat was irritated. It felt like it was burning. I coughed so hard that it forced my abdominal muscles to contract so quickly that I sat up. In pain, I cried.
"There, there, Stevie," mom said, "Mommy’s here, don’t cry."
She picked me up and put me close to her side. I rested my chin on her shoulder while she patted my back. Tears ran down from my eyes to my cheeks and then to my mom’s shoulders. My mom was calming me by speaking to me softly. All this time, I underestimated the power a mother has to sooth her child. Then, I found myself sucking my thumb.
I suddenly remembered that I have my pacifier clipped on my sweater.
I stopped crying, and my nausea vanished. I was breathing much slower and deeper. She put me back in my bed. I was still sucking my thumb as she put Harry on me to hug. I got my thumb out of my mouth and put my blue and yellow pacifier in my mouth. I smiled at mom and she tousled my hair. I felt so much better seeing her affectionate expression and maternal instinct.
"Okay, you should rest," mom said, "I called the doctor and he said we should go to see him. I’m bringing you after lunch, okay?"
I nodded and stayed really still. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. It was a good try. I didn’t get into sleep, but at least I was at peace with my eyes closed. I wished that I had been listening to some soothing music.
Lunchtime was over. Mom cleaned my face and then put me in my car seat. I felt nauseous again, but I tried my best to control. I didn’t want vomit in the car and make my mom do some extra work. It had been a day or so after I started to feel bad. At first, it was nothing; I can run around and play even if my temperature was exceeding 103 degrees. Then, it gotten bad, so mom decided that I finally go to see the doctor. I didn’t know why, but I have a thing for doctors. Although, like many other people, I never liked needles.
It was only a five minute drive to the doctor’s office. I was on my mom’s shoulder as she brought me past the glass door to the receptionist. The receptionist then greeted us, and couldn’t help but saying, "And is that your cute little boy who needs to see the doctor?" By this time, I gotten used to the complements that pretty much heard over and over again about me, whether it was directed to my parents, my sister, my babysitters, or me personally.
I was sat down on the seat next to my mom as we waited. It took a while since the doctor had a 9-year-old girl who was taken out from school apparently because she had asthma. I really felt sorry for her as she couldn’t really breathe for about an hour or so, and it was so serious that a normal inhaler wouldn’t cut it. I had a friend and schoolmate who almost died because of asthma. I wondered what happened to him, though. We didn’t see each other for almost a year now.
As we waited, I saw another mother with a toddler coming in. I immediately recognized it was Mrs. G (or Auntie Kim) and she was carrying little Jimmy with her. Jimmy appeared to be sleeping. I noticed that his nose was red and I think he just cried a few minutes ago. And he looked really sick, too. Well, it couldn’t be coincidence that my little best buddy would be sick. After all, we were always together.
"Hey, Camille!" Auntie Kim said, "Little Stevie’s sick, too?"
"Yup," mom said, "Fever, cough, you name it. What’s up with Jimmy here?"
"Same thing. He threw up a lot, though," Auntie Kim said, "He couldn’t stop crying, too,"
Suddenly, the door to the doctor’s office was opened. A female nurse stepped out with a clipboard. She stood there and my name was called.
"Oh, sorry, Kim," mom said, "Stevie’s called,"
Mom carried me up and into the doctor’s office. I felt nauseous again. Maybe that was because mom lifted me up too fast. Instinctively, I held on to mom. As she slowly walked through the door, my nausea was gone. I took a deep breath and relaxed.
"Ah, I knew I would be seeing my favorite little patient!" Dr. Jansen said.
Dr. Jansen has been the doctor here for a lot years. In fact, he was here ever since I was 5 years old. He has the reputation of being the friendliest pediatrician in town. I remembered coming there when I was 6. He looked so much younger back then. But his sense of humor, kindness, and friendliness never changed throughout the years. I couldn’t believe that I’d end up in his office again. One thing was for sure: his office didn’t change much the last time I went in it.
"Alright, I got your call about little Stevie," Dr. Jansen said again, "But he looked more sick than you told me,"
"Well, he looked a little better now. You should have seen him from this morning," mom said.
"Okay, put him on the exam table and I’ll take a look at him," he said.
The usual sight of a stethoscope put me in no worries, albeit it appeared much larger now. He pressed it on my chest in several places, and then on my back. He concluded that I was breathing a little shallow but there was nothing too much to be worry about. Then, he inserted the end of a thermometer into my ear. After a moment, an audible "beep" was heard.
"Wow, a hundred and four! It was good thing that you put him in something cooler," Dr. Jansen said, "Stevie, you are my 10th fever patient this week, and no one got a fever higher than yours,"
I was shocked and held back a moment. "Couldn’t the thermometer be wrong?" I said.
"Let’s see," he said.
Again, he inserted the thermometer into my ear. And it came back with the same reading.
"Nope, no mistake," he said.
"Are you sure?" my mom said.
"Well, we can take his core temperature, but I think that’s a little invasive," Dr. Jansen said, referring to putting a thermometer into my rectum, "Usually, I would only ask the parent or guardian about that, but since he has the mind of an adult, so..."
Quickly, I shook my head. Even if I enjoyed being a baby, I would never enjoy my privacy being violated. Diaper changes, bath times, and the other thing notwithstanding. I couldn’t believe that my fever was that high. I put my hand on my forehead curiously. Suddenly, I became nauseous again.
I whimpered and I let out a grunting sound. My blew my cheeks up and was trying to hold back something. But I couldn’t really hold it for long. I was about to vomit. Luckily, Dr. Jansen got a metal container that resembled a bowl under my mouth. He did just in time.
For about a few seconds, I threw up until I felt that my stomach was empty. I convulsed and my stomach was hurt. My only reaction afterward was to cry. I sobbed for a few seconds as my mom wiped around my mouth. Then, mom had me laid down and started to sooth me. She stroked my head and forehead back and forth to calm me down.
"It’s okay, Stevie. It’s alright now," mom said.
I started calming down. My sobs were reduced and I stopped crying. My nose was running again. Instinctively, I used my hand to wipe it off. Then, mom got a tissue to wipe my nose, and then used a wet wipe to use it on my hand.
"Alright, open wide," Dr. Jansen said.
I kept my mouth open while Dr. Jansen shined a flashlight to the back of my throat. He held my tongue down with a small reed, of course, while doing it.
"Wow, that’s really red," he said, "Do you feel that you have sore throat?" I only nodded.
Then, he used a otoscope and looked into my ears. After a moment, he smiled, saying, "Nope, your ears are okay. What else do you feel, Stevie? Since you can actually communicate, I guess that you’d give a good answer. Mind me that I ask kids your age, I mean, real kids that, too. Helps with communication skills!"
I told him that I felt a headache since the day before, a slight stomachache (felt more like a cramp), and that I felt really, really sleepy. In fact, I felt like collapsing to a deep slumber. Then, I complained that I was thirsty, too. Dr. Jansen then offered me some water--in a cup. I wasn’t sure at first, but I was capable of drinking from a glass. He was the pediatrician, so he knows best. I took the cup and thanked him. I slowly drank it down, being careful not to spill.
"Alright, even though he’s the worst case I’ve seen, it’s not that bad. It’s the flu season again, I mind you," Dr. Jansen said, "I’m gonna prescribe him acetaminophen to bring the fever down, but I don’t think medication would be necessary for the other symptoms. Just keep him cool and well rested. If he’s not better in 3 or 4 days, just come back to the office,"
"Alright," my mom said, "Thank you very much. And he’s actually drinking from a cup, too,"
"Hmm, it sounded like he never really drink from a glass in your house," Dr. Jansen said, "Maybe you should start that. He might not grow up again, but basic skills like drinking from a cup without a lid should be retained. I mean, he can talk clearly and all, so yeah,"
As I was carried out of the doctor’s office, I waved at the doctor goodbye. Well, I didn’t get a lollipop that day, but at least my thirst was quenched for a bit. Mom walked over the pharmacist’s counter to pick up the medication for me. When we were there, I put my pacifier in my mouth. It helped me to calm down until we get home.
I wasn’t just calm, however, I fell asleep. The next thing I remembered was waking up beside mom on the couch as she was working on her laptop. Mom was kind enough to have Harry brought to me, as well as a pillow and a blanket. I woke up with my head on a pillow, Harry in my arms, pacifier in my mouth, and blanket covering my legs. Another thing I noticed was that I was only wearing a diaper. I remembered feeling much better with my headache subsided.
I decided to stay still and waited. It would had been nice if mom had the TV on, though. I was bored. As I was thinking that, mom closed the laptop and reached for the remote. She turned on the TV and sat back. It was one of those daytime reruns of sitcoms. The jokes were a little stale, but were funny nonetheless.
"Hey, you’re awake!" mom said after she noticed me giggle to a joke on TV, "And you look so much better now!"
Then, she felt my forehead and my face.
"But you’re still quite warm. We haven’t given you’re medicine yet. Just stay still for a minute, okay?" mom said again.
She stood up and walked off quickly. Not a moment too soon when she came back with a bottle of medicine and an oral syringe. She helped me to sit up and she removed my pacifier from my mouth. She unscrewed the cap and extracted a dose into the syringe.
"Open wide, little boy!" she said.
I opened my mouth. The syringe was then put into my mouth. She squirted it in my mouth, and I swallowed it. I almost gagged, but I kept that under control. Even though the medication tasted tolerable, it left me with that acrid taste in my mouth. I never liked drinking down liquid medicine, especially cough syrup. Just imagine my babyish behavior with that taste in my mouth.
"Here’s a bottle of warm water to help you with that," mom said, "And you must be really thirsty. How are you feeling,"
"A little better," I said.
"Good. You can rest or play quietly until dinner time," my mom said, and then felt my diaper, "Since you’re not really wet yet, you don’t need a change right now,"
So the hours went by with me playing with a toy excavator and a toy dump truck. My childlike imagination kicked in and pretended that it was a construction site. I wished that I had a helmet to go with it. I used building blocks and started to build a building. After the building was "completed," though, Harry had to be the monster who would destroy the building.
Then it was 7 o’clock. Friday night again, and dad decided that we would be having pizza instead (actually, we ran out of things to cook). The delivery guy came a few minutes earlier with two large pizzas. I was allowed to eat two whole slices that evening. Usually, I was given three, but sick little boys shouldn’t eat that much, and I definitely wasn’t allowed to have any soda.
At least I was strong enough to feed myself, unlike in the morning and the afternoon when mom had to spoonfeed me. I was a messy eater, though. I had sauce all over my face, as well as some cheese and some of the topping. I didn’t know why, but I was having fun. Maybe because physical regression affected my brain chemistry, too. I was conscious about what happened, but it was as if I was powerless to prevent such action. Nobody really minded, though.
"Can I give him a bath tonight?" Sandy said.
"Sure," mom said, "But make sure that the water is not that warm, okay?"
"Okay, mom," Sandy said, and then to me, "Let’s go, sick brother,"
She picked me up carried me upstairs. I was removed of my dirty diaper and tank top. I sat there waiting as she ran the water in the tub, making sure it wasn’t too cold or too warm. One of the ways to manage fever in young children like I was is to give them a lukewarm bath. Suddenly, I sneezed repeatedly. Then, my nose was running again. I blew my nose until it was clear, and my sister helped me wipe my face and hands.
"In there you go!" Sandy said.
My feet first made contact, and then followed by my legs. I sat down in the water, immersing until the level reached just below my chest. She used a plastic cup and poured water all over my head. I giggled as the water flow in my hair, down to my face, and onto my chest. I was given some bath toys to play with as Sandy put baby shampoo on me. I pretended that I was a captain of a ship cruising in the ocean and encountered a big monster. Sandy just giggled at my toddler imagination and commented how I became better.
Then, she washed down from my toes, my feet, and moved up from there. She stood me up so that I can be cleaned at that part better. And then I made a request.
"Can you help me, please?" I said.
"Help you with what?" she asked. Then, I pointed down there, and she saw it expanding in front of her eyes. She said an "oh" and then do what was necessary.
About ten minutes later, she finished rinsing me and pulled the plug out. Sandy got me out of the tub and dried me with a towel. After she was satisfied, she put her hand on my forehead again. She felt all over my face and then reached for the thermometer in the medicine cabinet. She took my temperature, and then she looked at me, smiling.
"You’re still feverish, but as far as I can tell, you’ve gotten better," Sandy said, "Mom told me to keep you cool, and since I’m not sure what to put you in, I’m gonna let you go nakie for a bit,"
I was elated, of course. It had already been 4 and a half months since my transformation back to toddlerhood, and I had to say my behavior had already matched those of one. Even though I retained my knowledge and memories, my maturity had all but gone as well as my emotional control. I realized that I easily got mad and cried a lot even at the littlest of things. However, I was, overall, a generally happy little baby, just like what my mom told me when I was actually this age.
Clothesless, I was carried out of the bathroom and downstairs to the living room. I ran around and played with my toys while dad was watching the evening news. My sister was always around me when I played. I couldn’t believe that I was sick since I was so active.
"Nakie time’s over! Time to put you in your diaper," mom said.
"But mom," I whined.
"She’s right, Stevie," dad said, "I don’t want to see any pee stains around the house,"
"Fine," I said.
It was a good, but not exactly a satisfying 45 minutes. Maybe I was a nudist in nature while being little. I already hated having pants on, so not liking the rest of my clothing shouldn’t be a big deal. However, I did feel a little better when mom put me in my overnight diaper. Maybe I like to be clothed after all, albeit minimally.
"It might be a little cold tonight, so I’m gonna put you in this t-shirt," mom said when she put it on.
It was really loose cotton t-shirt. It was really cool and pretty big. Usually, my t-shirts won’t go below my waist and sometimes my hip. In that t-shirt, it concealed me below my hips almost to my thighs. I was slightly disappointed because not much of my diaper was seen. I pulled my t-shirt a bit to get my diaper in full view. I really liked it to look down and see a really cute diaper on me.
Suddenly, I was picked up by my sister. She carried me upstairs into her room. When I was bigger, access to my sister’s room was a privilege, and I respect her privacy. Then, when I turned into a toddler, the doors suddenly opened wide for me. I never really entered her room, either afterward, which was why she "forced" me into the room.
"Umm, Sandy," I said, "Why am I here?"
"Can’t I spend some quality time with baby brother?" she said, "I haven’t had a chance to do that for a while,"
It creeped me out on how she said that sentence. Then, I felt a sudden joy. Perhaps it was the longing love for my sister. We were pretty close since we were really little. So, it made sense that she wanted me to be alone with her for a bit for a little brother and sister bonding. Nothing beyond the innocent and the friendly, of course.
She closed the door after she left me on her bed. As one would expect from a girl like her, she had quite a few stuffed animals around. I couldn’t quite resist the urge to just grab on and hug for a few hours. Then, I remembered about Harry, and I spotted him near her pillow. Quickly, I got hold of him. She must had brought him here before the whole kidnapping fit.
"I knew you would be wanting him," Sandy said, "You didn’t even thank me,"
"Thanks!" I said.
Then, she sat on the bed right just beside me. I noticed the entire time that she was just smiling at me. As I expected, she put her arms around me. I wasn’t really surprised, but it startled me. Then, she held close to me and I felt really, really secure. At that point, the hierachy was established; I was the little brother and she was the big sister.
"I missed the old you, Stevie," Sandy said, "But I know that deep down inside, my big brother’s there. It was really hard for me to accept that you became a baby again. I really missed your aspirations to be the best, even if you weren’t really up to it. Doesn’t matter now. At least you’ll always be home,"
Suddenly, music was playing from the speakers of my sister’s computer. I immediately recognized it to be a Skype ringtone. I was some distance away from the computer screen to see the caller ID. It rang for a few seconds and nobody’s answering.
"Don’t you wanna get that?" I said.
"Ah, just in time," she said.
I wondered what she said for a moment as she brought me along to her computer. She sat on the chair and got me on her lap. She fixed the webcam on the monitor before using the mouse to click on the answer button. I watched the screen the whole time. I knew it was one of Sandy’s friends at school, but I didn’t expect it to be this one in particular.
"Hello, Angie! Sorry to keep you waiting," Sandy said.
Oh my gosh, it was Angie. She was like the prettiest girl in school even during the time I was a student. While many guys thought of going out with a chick like that, I had this particular attraction to her. Not a moment passed by when I never thought of how pretty she was within my sights. Another thing that made me attracted to her was the fact that she was an A student and obviously really smart (explains why she never got out with some jocks or popular kids.) Well, nerds would be too shy to approach her, but I made contact with her more than a few times. She didn’t show it, but I knew she liked me very much. I wasn’t sure it was my boyish charm or my slightly unconventional attitude towards things. And I didn’t know how she would think of me as she found out about me being a little boy again.
"It’s alright, Sandy," she said, "So how’s it going?"
"It’s fine, tonight. Brought my brother, too,"
"Oh, where is he, I didn’t see him,"
"Oops, one second, please," Sandy said.
My sister repositioned the webcam again. This time, she made sure that I was in the frame so she moved back a little. Finally, she found a position that satisfied her. I saw myself within the feedback window on the screen. I have to say I liked to see myself as a 30 month old.
"Awww! You always told me that your brother’s really cute when he turned into a baby, but I never knew he was this cute!" Angie exclaimed on her side of the conversation, "I just wanna squeeze him!"
I blushed in embarrassment. I’ve seen girls from all ages who couldn’t just resist the cuteness of a toddler. However, her reaction was one of a kind. Over the top, if I may add. She always told me that she liked children, and I always joked with her about whether if I become a cute little boy again. Her response was often along the lines of lovingly squeezing, holding, and hugging.
"What do you think I’m doing right now?" Sandy said, "Isn’t he cute with his little stuffed bunny? He called it Harry by the way,"
"Really?! That’s so cute! So, is that really your brother? Can’t believe he was a college boy a few months ago," Angie said. She exclaimed to the point where the microphone couldn’t handle the gain.
"No joke. That’s him," Sandy said, "Why don’t you say something,"
I blushed again. I felt a little shy. In my mind, I was formulating an appropriate sentence to say to her. Even though it would be snap for an adult, it was a little difficult as a toddler. Physical changes that was inevitable in regression, of course.
"Hi, Angie!" I said in a high pitched toddler voice, "Nice to see you again!"
I felt like a real toddler at that point. Children really like to say hellos and goodbyes. I was no different. I speculated that it was natural for this stage in life. After 24 months of age, as far I had known, children would start to develop their social skills. This was why I became so close to Jimmy and other little kids in the neighborhood, particularly those of my physical age.
"Ooh, it is you! I don’t know why but I can tell, despite the obvious toddler talk," Angie said, "So, how’s it been?"
"It’s okay," I said, "I think being a toddler again isn’t so bad,"
Well, that was a lie. It wasn’t bad at all. I was just too embarrassed to say that I wanted to be a little boy again. Suddenly, I coughed, and then I sneezed a few times. Thankfully, Sandy was there to help me wipe my nose clean.
"Sorry, Angie. He’s got the flu. He’s actually a little feverish right now. He’ll be alright in the next week or so," Sandy said.
"Oh, I knew he looks a little sick," Angie said, "I hope you’ll be better soon!"
"Thank you!" I said in a detached manner as toddlers would do. Both girls giggled at that, and I laughed with them.
We talked about a few things until it was time for me to be in bed. We exchanged goodbyes, and Angie made a promise to visit us soon to see me. I didn’t say anything back, of course. I was too shy to see someone from my high school to visit me as a toddler. Then, the usual routine of putting me in bed and kiss goodnight. My sister put my pacifier in my mouth and made sure it was clipped to my t-shirt. I got into a comfortable position and was well on the way into a deep slumber.
Something woke me up, but it wasn’t anything to be alarmed about. Actually, I woke up on my own. As I opened my eyes, I saw that still dark. The only light source was the nightlight in the corner of my room. I tried to go back to sleep, but I felt really uncomfortable. It wasn’t exactly a headache but I could feel that my head was throbbing. However, it didn’t affect me enough to make me cry, though.
I decided there was only one thing left to do. With Harry in my arms and a pacifier in my mouth, I climbed out of my bed. However, my sickness didn’t make me any better in coordination, so I fell onto the ground. However, it wasn’t that bad. Soon, I was back on my feet.
I walked over to the door. I opened it slowly and toddled out of my room. My sister’s door was closed, so I chose to go downstairs instead. I carefully negotiated the steps, being careful not to fall face down or slipped to fall onto my back. After a minute or so, I reached my destination. Quickly, I walked to the living room. Mom and dad was there, too.
"Mommy, I can’t sleep," I said.
My parents looked at me surprised.
"Come over here, sweetie," mom called on me.
I walked over to the couch and mom got me up. She sat me down between her and dad. She started stroking my head slowly. I could see the concerned face on both of their faces, though mom’s was more profound.
"You’re a little warm, sweetheart," mom said again, "Are you feeling okay?"
"Not really. I feel a little dizzy," I said.
"Be right back, okay?" she said again, then walking off.
I sat back and put my pacifier back into my mouth. Mom and dad was watching a movie on TV. I still couldn’t sleep despite the fact that the movie didn’t appeal to me at all. Somehow, I never liked films with romantic love affairs, unless they’re funny. In my gazed state, dad pulled me up to his lap and held me in his arms.
"Wow, you are really warm," dad said, "At least you look okay, though,"
I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Then, mom came in. She looked at us and smiled. "Can you hold that for a minute? I have to take this picture!" mom said. Not a moment too soon until she came back with the camera in hand. She took two pictures of me being held by dad. After that, I saw her looking at the pictures and laughed. I could tell those were good pictures.
"Here you go, little boy," mom said, handing me the bottle.
As I expected, it was warm formula. I took my pacifier out of my mouth and started to suckle on the bottle. It was warm and tasty. Mom must have added malt flavor in it. There wasn’t even a moment I remembered ever getting the teat out of my mouth. I just kept drinking.
I must have drank slowly because I spent half an hour watching the latter part of the movie to the end. Somehow, that movie got me hooked. I started watching from the climax, and then kept watching until the resolution. The whole time, I really couldn’t sleep, although I felt ready for the bed again.
During the start of the ending credits, I started to doze. My eyes were closed into slits. I was tired, but not yet asleep. I remembered my mom got the empty bottle out of my mouth and replaced it with my pacifier. I heard them whispering to each other, but I couldn’t understand a thing. And for the first time in my new life, both mom and dad brought me upstairs and into my room.
They tucked me into bed, making sure my blanket was on my feet and my head on the pillow. I remembered instinctively holding on to Harry. Mom and dad whispered once again, and they went out of the room--together. That made me wonder for a second.
Mom and dad’s relationship was shaky ever since I was like 12 years old. It was really the little things, though. They got into fights sometimes, and those sometimes can be really scary for my sister and me especially. I loved them to be together, too. Perhaps it was me that they had an unsteady relationship, apart from disagreements and misunderstandings. The truth is I was never the poster child of a very well mannered and successful person. I failed school before, and dad blamed mom because she didn’t help me enough in homework. Then, I wasn’t physically in shape, so mom blamed dad because he didn’t encourage me to take up exercising until I was about 17. And a lot of other little things. My only fear before going to college was they would break up, and it saddened me to think that.
I didn’t understand what happened to our family that made them close again. I knew that both mom and dad wanted me to grow up and be all that I can be, so being a toddler again would pretty much shatter that dream of maturity and come of age. Perhaps because it was of that mom and dad decided to "start over" and adapt to my needs again. And since I won’t be growing up any time soon, there was no point of making me pass college, get a job, and get married.
And before I could finish what I was thinking, I slipped into deep sleep.