Book of Revenge: Patient (Part 2)

As I arrived at the airport, my life became one shock after another.  The first shock I had was when I walked off the plane and saw this absolutely beautiful young woman waiting at the gate.  She was gorgeous and model tall with big blue eyes and long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and cascading down her back.  Her hair had that messy, tousled look that said 'Oh, I just rolled out of bed like this and I still look better than you ever will'.  Slender, but with wicked curves and a body better than what you'd find in a Playboy magazine.  She was wearing a low-cut shirt that was figure-hugging, and shorts that emphasized and showed off those long, long legs to perfection.  Almost every man at the airport gate was at least sneaking glances at her, some staring openly.  But that such a beauty was at the gate was not the shock.  The shock was that she was holding a sign that had my name on it!

  "Karen?", I asked.  And a smile broke out on that face like the sun rising.  It was her!  Obviously all that baby fat had gone to all the right places!  Very, very right places!

As she came closer, I realized that while I'd barely grown in the intervening years, Karen had grown like a skyscraper!  She was a tall girl, much taller than average.  And she'd filled out like her mother!  I'd mentioned that both our mothers were well endowed, curvy ladies and that I was sure that's at least partially why they'd become fast friends.  Karen had clearly inherited the same genes but where Karen's mom was a bit more heavyset and matronly, Karen had a body that would stop traffic!  With her long hair flowing behind her like a golden cape, wearing that tight top and shorts, she looked like she'd stepped off the set of a movie, or at least a beer commercial.  And to have someone like that so genuinely happy to see me!  I remembered that we had parted so many years ago with a bit of a cloud.  I was worried there might be some resentment.  But you couldn't fake the huge smile that appeared when we met eyes.  It was like a child seeing Santa Claus.  She rushed over, grabbing me in a big hug, crushing me against those considerable breasts and lifting me clear off the floor as effortlessly as you'd lift a cat.  She was so strong too!  After the hug, she grabbed me under my armpits and held me in the air at arm's length!  I just hung there, legs dangling.  What else could I do?

   "You have not changed one bit since we were kids!  Except your hair!  It's grown so long!  It's almost longer than mine!"  I shook my head, self-conscious of how much hair I had.  I'd lost the elastic I used to hold my hair together while I was sleeping on the flight, and now having my hair loose and down, everyone was calling me 'miss' and 'young lady' as I'd got off the flight.  As Karen had just made me very aware, we both had waist length hair.  But of course she was joking that mine was longer... She was so much taller, her hair had to be twice the length of mine.
  "You are just the most adorable!  I'm so happy to see my little Ken doll again!"  I blanched a bit at her comment... She knew I'd hated that name when we were kids and I still disliked it.  I started to respond with the name she hated just as much and say that must make her 'Barbie'.  Looking into her eyes, it was almost as if she was daring me to say it.  The words died in my throat.  It's an easy decision to make to not risk angering someone when you're being effortlessly held up off the ground!
   "It's good to see you too, Karen."  I said instead, with as much dignity as I could muster, my legs swinging freely above the floor.  She hugged me again, squishing her breasts into my chest.  For the first time, I was very happy to be sporting adult diapers.  Being squashed to the chest of this blonde goddess was... er... umm... making things active in my pants.  And the last thing I wanted was her to feel it pressing against her.  Luckily the adult underpants were tight enough to save me that embarrassment.  Karen put me down and I finally saw that Karen's mom was there too.  She looked exactly as she had when I was growing up, with maybe a few wrinkles and her hair a bit shorter.  I hugged Karen's mom.  She also lifted me in the air, hugging me exactly as she had when I was a small child.  I wriggled awkwardly, but she smushed me to her bosom and held me there for what felt like a very long time.  But finally I was lowered back to the ground.

My mom had packed all my things into a suitcase.  I couldn't even lift it, I had to roll it around on wheels.  But Karen just hefted it all herself in one arm and carried it into the car.  Surprisingly, when we got to the car, I could see there was a child's safety seat installed.  I started to say it was nice they'd thought of me, but I was tall enough to use a regular adult seat.  Before I could even open my mouth, Karen had swept me up in her arms, and deposited me into the seat!  I started to protest, but she leaned over me, giving me a great look straight down her cleavage as she adjusted the harness holding me in.  Words fled my lips as I stared right into those alabaster globes and my mouth went suddenly dry.  Spending a year being taken care of by Karen's mom, getting to see Karen regularly now that I realized she had the body that men would give fortunes for...  I decided being strapped into the child's seat wasn't so bad.  I'd let them know their error later and for now, just enjoy the view.  Karen had absolutely turned into a very... healthy girl.  I admit, I wasn't really paying attention to anything but what was in front of me.  Karen had to reach and twist to get all the straps so she she presented me with lots of 'interesting' angles.  Soon I was buckled in with shoulder and chest harnesses.  There was a 'click' as Karen attached the groin strap, and I felt very secure, like I was tightly cinched in.  I looked up into Karen's smiling face as she looked down on me from above.  But then she abruptly gave a sudden and unexpectedly violent yank on the groin strap pulling it painfully tight.  Yikes!  I started to open my mouth to say it was too tight, but she'd already closed the door on me.  I squirmed uncomfortably from the pressure on my groin.  The full harness I was strapped into had absolutely no give.  I tried to loosen the buckle Karen had just tightened, but it seemed like it was a one way buckle and would not loosen, only get tighter.  I had to get relief, so I clicked the clearly marked harness release button that would release all the straps.  Nothing happened!  I poked at it a few times.  It was like it was jammed or something.  Karen went around the vehicle and sat in the drivers seat, pulling the door closed behind her.  Finally I found my voice.
 
  "Umm, Karen, the harness is a too tight.  And I can't seem to open it?"  Karen looked at me through the rear-view mirror.
  "Oh, is it?", she said offhandedly.  "Well, you want it to be tight to be safe, don't you?  And it's a short drive.  I'm sure you'll be fine and then we can adjust it at home."  With that quick dismissal, she revved up the engine and we were off.

Once we started driving,  I couldn't think about anything but the intense pressure on my groin.  I squirmed and twisted, but I was so tightly harnessed, I couldn't get any relief.  Worse, little bumps as the car drove would increase the pressure.  Realizing I had no choice, I just tolerated it, wincing with every little bump.  And then we hit a big bump and something truly strange began to happen.

When we hit that bump, and every large bump thereafter, I threw my hands in the air like I was on a roller coaster and straightened my legs, kicking the seat in front of me.  It was completely not my doing!  It was like when the doctor hits your knee with the little hammer and your leg just kicks out on it's own.  Except in this case, I had no control of what both arms and legs were doing as we hit each bump.  Worse, each carom was hitting me like when you're hit by very, very cold water.  You know that moment of shock where it was hard to breath, impossible to speak.  I tried to say something to Karen or her mother, but nothing came out!  I could only breath shallow little breaths and I couldn't even make a squeak come out of my mouth. 
 
I immediately was reminded of something the doctor said when they'd first identified I had come down with Tropical Mentior Profligatus.  They said that the disease was known to massively affect the nervous system.  There were people so badly affected by TMP they became unable to breath on their own and had to be hooked to machines to breath for them.  Scary!  While I'd been lucky and avoided life threatening side effects, it had affected me in other ways.  It had seriously affected my ability to write for example.  My writing had been reduced to a babyish scrawl, barely legible.  So now writing was a skill I was having to work to re-learn.  The doctors had insisted I start practicing immediately, as the longer I waited, the harder it would be to re-learn.  But the doctor had also said that there might be other 'tics' or unusual behaviors linked to the nerve damage that we hadn't discovered yet.  Things would be connected in unexpected ways.  As the doctor explained it, I was now like a house where you might flip a light switch and the stove would turn off.  Or you might run water in the kitchen sink and the toilet would flush.  I'd have to learn how, over time and through repetition, to make that light switch turn off the light instead.  He warned us that, in some cases, entire response systems could be re-written and would have to be relearned and that I'd have to be very careful in physical therapy to avoid life-long effects.  For example, if I didn't work on improving my writing, eventually there would be nothing I could do and my writing would be like that forever.  I was also aware that I already had one horribly embarrassing side effect involving my groin that we'd discovered in the hospital.  I couldn't bring myself to think about that right now and what might be involved retraining it.  But this seemed to be related.  It's just so terrifying for your body to be doing things without you having control...

I'm sure it's just because I was dreading them, but the route we took seemed to have a lot of speed-bumps, road humps and judder bars and I swear that I could see Karen sneaking a look in the rear-view mirror, before we hit each one.  And every time I involuntarily threw my hands in the air and kicked my legs out, it looked like she was grinning.  Of course she was.  I imagined how it must look to someone watching... Throwing up my hands, throwing out my legs, it would've looked like a kid playing and having fun.  It was the physical equivalent of saying "WHEEEE!!!" as we went over each bump.  Of course she must've thought I was enjoying each bounce.  Obviously that's why she was looking back in the mirror and giggling, right?  With my inability to speak, she'd have to assume I was just being silly and was having a great time.  And that surely explained why  I started to become certain that she was zig-zagging around the road, looking for things we could rattle over.  She thought she was providing me entertainment, instead of causing pain and triggering a nervous reaction from my body that left me utterly helpless, unable to control my body.  What a horrible coincidence!  Unable to speak, unable to control my arms and legs, I just prayed for the ride to end. 

Finally we arrived outside the same house I had grown up in, so many years ago.  I was completely distracted because of the soreness in my groins and bruises where my shins had been hitting the seat.  The ride had taken so much out of me, I needed a few minutes to gather myself.  Karen's mom, who had been completely oblivious, said "I'll get the door" and got out of the car.  That left Karen and I alone in the vehicle.  Karen turned around in the front seat to speak to me.
 
   "So about that seat.  We picked it up second hand because your medical records said you were still so tiny.  But we didn't really look too closely at it and it seems like the front release is broken.  You'll have to use the back release.  It's behind the seat, about at your shoulder blades."  After a few minutes of rest, having regained control of my limbs, I reached back about where she'd said.  I couldn't wait to get relief on my poor groin!  
   
   It was soon obvious I couldn't quite reach it.  I twisted and squirmed, and could see what she was pointing at, but it was just barely beyond my grasp.  I twisted left, I twisted right, I tried to reach straight back.  Every time, I could almost reach it... But not quite.  I was trapped and it began to sink in  I wasn't going to be able to get out of the seat without help.  I turned to see Karen still sitting in the front seat, looking back at me.  She seemed to be intently studying my attempts to try and get loose.  She must've realized I wasn't able to get free... Why wasn't she helping?  I rudely stared back at her, expecting a hand.  Finally, just as I was about to say something, she seemed to realize I was waiting.  She got out and walked around to my car door.  Once it was open, she effortlessly reached behind the seat to release the harness.  Ahh, relief as the straps sprang free!  Karen lifted me out of the seat and carefully placed me on the ground.  I appreciated the help as my legs were extra wobbly from the pain in my groin and soreness in my shins.  It was then I realized I was in the driveway of my childhood home.  My aches and pains faded as I was engulfed in nostalgia.

It was surreal.  Here was the house I'd grown up in.  And although there were a few differences, it looked exactly like I remembered it.  Instantly, I felt like a little kid again.  Karen grabbed the suitcase and carried it into the house while Karen's mom provided an arm to help me walk to the house.  Thank goodness she did.  In my disease weakened state, all the walking at the airport had left me a bit wobbly.  Bouncing up and down on my groin for the ride had made my legs weak.  Also, thank goodness for the adult diapers I was wearing because I could now feel that I had leaked a little on the way over.  My bladder was insisting there was a lot more urine that had decided to vacate, so I knew I'd have to make a priority to get to the bathroom soon.  First though, I had to make it to the house.  Karen's mom came back out to the driveway as Karen grabbed my suitcase from the car.  All in all, I was very glad to have the support from Karen's mom in order to make it to the house.  It would've taken me a long time without her assistance.  I removed my shoes at the door, remembering that's something that had always been a rule in this household.  The smile from Karen's mom told me how happy she was that I'd remembered.  Being in sock feet made me feel even smaller next to both women, as I looked up into their smiling faces.

"Let me give you the tour", Karen said as she took my arm.  "It's probably not much different from how you remember it!" she said reassuringly.

As I slowly made my way into the house, I got my second shock!  Karen's mom had converted the main part of the house into her sewing workshop, and the whole house was filled with hangers covered in girls pageant dresses!  If you've ever seen the show 'Toddlers & Tiaras', you'd know what kinds of dresses I was talking about.  Over the top dresses, dripping in lace and petticoats.  These were way more over-the-top girly and feminine than the dresses Karen had worn when we were kids, and I would've told you that just couldn't be done!  There were dozens of them too, filling every corner of the room!  Karen told me that her mom had become so well-known for her gowns, she had been able to focus her seamstress business on them alone and do quite well financially.  I commented that the house had become even more girly than I remembered it, and I thought that was impossible.  Karen laughed.

  "You have no idea!  I've had to fight my mom tooth and nail or I'd be walking around in gowns with big flouncy petticoats all the time!  You remember how my mom would dress me when we were kids.  Thank goodness she's now busy dressing all those pageant girls so she doesn't have time for me anymore.  Luckily, none of these" she gestured at the pageant gowns, "are big enough that I could fit into them.  But you... "  Karen gave me a look from head to toe and then slyly grinning. "I guarantee there are a few that are just your size."  As I stammered trying to think of a response, Karen winked at me.  Luckily Karen's mom interjected.

  "Now Karen, you just say the word and I'll make a gown your size."  Karen gave a disgusted look and immediately assured her mother that was not going to happen, but the older lady shared a wink with me that indicated she was just teasing her daughter back for teasing me.  I smiled and relaxed.  Without realizing it, I'd been getting a strange vibe from Karen.  I don't know how to describe it, but something just didn't seem right and it was throwing me off.  But this one act from Karen's mom and all the tension was gone.  Karen's mom had taken care of me since I was an infant and with one action, she reinforced that this was a safe place.  For the first time, I started to feel like this could be home.  At least for the next year!  

As Karen and I walked though the house together chatting, I realized I was having to lean back to look up at her.  I had to!  I didn't dare look straight.  If I did, I'd be staring right into her immense bosom and she'd think I was some kind of pervert!  So I kept my eyes up, even if it was making my neck and back sore.  Karen chatted away, not noticing.  "I've taken over the attic, that's my room now.  So we had been storing the attic stuff in our old room, the one we had as kids.  But we've cleared that out for you now."  That made sense.  I was just going to ask where they had moved the items that had been in the room when something touched my head.  I jumped a bit as Karen had reached out and stroked my hair out of the blue!  "Oh, sorry" she said, seeing my reaction.  "I couldn't resist.  I'm so glad you kept your hair long.  But you really need a style."  I snorted.

  "When you're in the hospital, styling your hair is not a priority."  But then I felt like I had to explain myself.  "I've always kinda liked my hair long.  You know we always had it long when we were kids."  Karen nodded along at that, shaking her head to set her very long hair shimmering back and forth in agreement.  "I probably needed a trim before I went into the hospital.  But when I got sick, I just kinda stopped getting it cut."  I started to say more, but then thought better of it.  I had grown up with Karen, but I didn't really know her well enough to confess that having my hair washed and brushed was one of my few pleasures given some of the other side effects of my disease...  Now matter how sick I'd been, it made me feel better.  Skyla, my girlfriend, had often volunteered.  She'd wash it and dry it and comb it for me.  It was one of the few intimate things we could do when I was really sick.  And letting it grow longer meant that it took more time to do.  I cherished every minute, and I think Skyla did too because she worked very hard to prevent split ends and to maximize growth.  But Karen was right.  I couldn't leave it as it was.  I had let it get too long even before I got sick and now I hadn't cut it in all that time I'd been in hospital on top of that.  I knew it was far too long for me to take care of it myself.  But as I was thinking, I felt Karen reach behind me and start playing with my hair.  I couldn't really see what she was doing, but she was pulling it back, piling it on my head, running her fingers through it with a thoughtful look on her face...  It reminded me of what Skyla used to do and once again I was glad to be wearing those tight adult diapers, so she couldn't see that I was enjoying her handling of my hair in almost an erotic way.  There were several minutes of silence as Karen continued what she was doing and I drank it in, luxuriating in the sensations of this gorgeous woman's touch.  Finally, I snapped out of my bliss, feeling a bit awkward, and felt like I had to say something.  "I guess I really should get it cut short." I sighed wistfully.  "It's not fair to make to make your mom take care of it."  Karen's response was quick, almost desperate. 
  "No, you can't cut it."  She also seemed to snap out of it, and her voice became more calm.  "My mom wouldn't care.  Quite the opposite, she loves taking care of people's hair."  With that, she shook her head, throwing her own thick, golden mane about.  "Remember how much she loved styling my hair when we were little?  She hasn't changed.  I don't let her touch it now, but still if I got mine cut, she'd kill me."  Karen's mom hollered something affirmative from the next room.  Karen and I both smiled as we remembered how Karen's mom had told us as children that long hair was elegant and dramatic and treasured for most of history.  "Trust me, mom won't have any complaints if you leave it long and neither would I."  She seemed thoughtful for a bit then dropped her voice a bit so her mom couldn't hear.  "You know, I would love a chance to experiment with some different styles on you.  Maybe if they look good on you, I'd be able to talk my mom to allow me to cut my hair the same way.  And of course when we're done, we can just cut it all short for you.  Promise me that you won't let anyone cut your hair but me!" 

That was an unexpected request.  But I didn't see any harm in it.  Sure, why not?  She was right, even if she went nuts with the scissors, I could always just get it cut short and let it regrow.  It seemed like a good gesture towards the people who were taking care of me for the next year.
  "OK, OK, no haircut.  I promise.  You can do whatever you want to my hair.", I said.  That seemed to make Karen very happy.  With that, she stepped behind me, parting my hair in the middle.  She gathered them up, holding firm to either side of my head, a little uncomfortably tight.
  "You know, you would look delightful with bangs or a fringe and a pair of braids..."  OK, that was exactly what I was worried about, that she'd be silly about it.  I went to push her hands back and pull my hair free, but her grip didn't loosen at all.  I was held in place staring straight ahead.  I tried to struggle out, and her grip just tightened.
  "Karen?" I said.  As if her point was made, she released my hair, and it fell back.  I turned to look back at her and saw the smirk on her face.  Maybe she was just being funny, but that was more disturbing than funny.  With that, I was ready to go back on my promise.  I resolved I was going to get my hair cut short as soon as possible.  I'd changed my mind.  I suddenly had no interest in letting Karen experiment with my hair.  We continued through the house.  
 
  As we turned down the hall, she pointed at the giraffe her mother had painted when we were children.  I recognized it instantly as I was flooded with nostalgia.
  "Look!  It's the place where we used to track our growth when we were kids!"  Another wave of nostalgia hit me.  When we were little, we'd both line up to get our growth checked on special occasions.  I knelt down to look closely where we'd marked our heights as kids.  It had been painted over, but I could still see the faint depressions that marked the height of Karen and myself when we were little.  I chuckled looking at all the now painted over marks that showed Karen and I as identically tall.  I worked up to the very last one.  This one had been painted over in black to emphasize it, with a little mark labeled 'Kendal' just slightly above the one labeled
'Karen'.  Karen and I were always identical heights.  Until this last one, we were measured and I was just slightly taller than Karen for the first time.  I remembered being so happy that day.  Karen was not happy at all.  I think she'd almost seen it as a contest between us, and she couldn't handle that I was winning.  That day was the last day Karen got measured.  After that, she'd refused to ever go near the wall.  A quick glance all the way up at Karen reminded me how things have changed!  And from the look on her face, I knew I wasn't getting away without one more measurement... 

  "MOM!  MOM!", Karen called, and her mom came running.  "Mom, you have to measure Kendal and I again!"  Karen's mom smiled.
  "I'll get my paint brush!" and ran off as Karen measured us both on the wall.  Karen leaned over to me and stage whispered.
  "I think I might be a little bit taller this time." she gloated.  I wasn't amused.  Soon the heights were updated and painted.  Karen's mom took a picture.  "Your mom will get a laugh out of this", she said, completely sincere.  Personally, the last thing I needed was a reminder of just how tiny I was.  I needed to pee, I was very tired and I was grumpy but I was a guest, so I put up with it.  
 
  After our delay, Karen continued to take me through the house.  She was in an unbearably happy mood, while I was starting to feel the fatigue from the stress of everything.  So I was happy to see we were heading towards our old bedroom.  I thought this was a good time to say that I needed the toilet and a nap.  When the door opened, the thought fled my mind and I had my third shock.

  "Trippy, isn't it?" Karen asked.  I was speechless.  The room had been restored exactly to how it was when Karen and I had shared the room as very small children.  It was a princesses bedroom.  Everything was in pink, with lace accents.  The curtains, the dresser, the toybox, the closet had pink doors...  There were stuffed animals and dolls on shelves.  Even the old change table where Karen's mom had changed Karen and my diapers was there.  I looked at the change table questioningly.  "Oh, we still had this.  Your mom said you sometimes had... problems.  So my mom put out the change table and even got a supply of diapers!"  Looking closely at the table, I frowned.
  "Karen, those aren't the right diapers."  Karen shrugged.  Angrily, I continued.  "Those are all baby diapers.  I mean, they might be the right size for me, but they're pink with little princesses and teddy bears on them.  Plus they're so thick!  So much padding!  I'd barely be able to walk in those.  I don't wear things like that."  I hesitated a little, but I was coming to the realization that if Karen and her mom were looking after me, I'd have to adjust my ideas of privacy.  I'd need to confide in them.  I pulled my pants down slightly, showing the edge of my underpants to Karen.  I was careful to only show the dry part near the waistband... I didn't want her to know I'd already wet myself on the drive over.  I'd have to grab another pair from my suitcase and change when I got the chance.  "I wear these.  They're proper adult diapers.  They look just like underwear and they still let me move around freely.  If I wore those huge padded diapers you bought, I'd barely be able to waddle!  I couldn't even get my pants on over those!  Look, I have documents with me, but my mom sent your mom all of my medical and care documents weeks ago, including my prescriptions and what brand of adult diaper I wear.  You should've bought what was in the papers."  Karen shrugged again, seeming to dismiss my concerns.  But by now I'd got into the room and noticed something.  I pointed at the bed.  At least I pointed to the place where the bunk beds that Karen and I had slept in used to be.  Instead there was something else.

  "Why is there a crib there?  What happened to the bed?"  Karen looked a little embarrassed.  
  "I'm sorry, the bunk beds are gone years ago, we threw them out not expecting to need them again.  But mom was all sentimental about my crib, so we still had that, and when I realized you hadn't grown much, I thought we might be able to use it instead."  I raised my eyebrow to indicate I was not impressed.
  "Why are there pink lacy sheets?  Why are there large stuffed animals in the crib?  Look Karen, this is not acceptable."  Karen put her hands on her hips and looked down as if she was dealing with a child.
  "We can take the stuffed toys out and change the sheets.  That's just how we had it until now.  We'll make it suit you, OK?"  I wasn't buying it.
  "Karen... IT'S A CRIB!  It's too small for me anyway", I said with finality.  But Karen continued on.
  "I think it will fit you.  I made some modifications to it.  I made it a little bigger.  I also reinforced and strengthened it so now it could handle an elephant sleeping in it.  I even made some other changes for your conditions...  Didn't your medical documents say you sometimes sleepwalk?"  

I was surprised to hear that and shrugged noncommittally.  Honestly, in all my time being sick, I couldn't ever remember sleepwalking.  I mean, usually it was the opposite, that I was too weak to even get out of bed.  Did my records really say that?  I should really read those medical documents and see if there were any other surprises in there.

  "So you see", Karen waved at the crib, "this way you can be all safe and secure.  And as far as the fit..."  Without warning, she quickly grabbed me under the armpits and effortlessly put me standing into the crib!  "See!  You're bigger, but it will still fit you!  Lay down and let's make sure".  I just raised an eyebrow at Karen.  Even though I was tired, I had no desire to lay down in that crib ever.  It was a crib!  Even if it fit me, there's no way I was sleeping in a baby's crib!  I knew my mom had placed enough money in my bank account to purchase a proper bed, and that's what we'd do as soon as possible.  However, my desires were quickly irrelevant.  As we stared at each other, her expecting me to lay down and me refusing to do so, Karen got tired of waiting.  Karen suddenly swept my legs out from underneath me with her arm, then caught me as I fell.  Cradled in her arms, she gently lowered me into the bed.  To my chagrin, I still fit in the same crib I'd slept in as a child!  "See!  It's like it was made for you."  And Karen stepped back, but not before she lifted the crib bars into place.  Then she reached over the back part of the crib, and pulled a folded plastic cover over the top!  What the heck?  "See, the top makes sure you don't sleepwalk and fall out of the crib."  I watched her throw the latch that attached the plastic top to the crib bars.  A quick push on the plastic top and it was clear that it was indestructible to any force my weakened limbs could bring to bear.  To me, the bars might as well have been made out of steel.  With a look at Karen, I reached towards the latch and, just like the child safety seat, the latch was so, so close... but just out of my reach.  

"Karen... How do I get out of here?"  I tried to ask calmly, but a bit of desperation crept into my voice.  I didn't like being locked in a cage!  Karen looked thoughtful.
"Hmm.  I thought you'd be able to reach that latch.  Your arms are shorter than I thought!  I'll tell you what, first chance I get I'll get my drill and move that latch over where you can reach it.  But you know, I think my portable drill needs to recharge.  I'll tell you what, I'll go plug it in right now.  It only takes a few hours to charge."  Karen turned to me.  "Be right back!" and she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her before I could tell her to at least open the latch for me right now!

I was trapped!  I laid on my back, and pressed my feet against the lid trying to open it, but Karen was right, an elephant couldn't move it.  I wriggled the bars again, trying to get them to go down but they refused to move for any force I could bring.  After a few minutes, I was reminded of my very full bladder that I'd left the car with.  I'd let all this other stuff distract me from the bathroom.  I started calling out.

  "Karen?  Karen!  KAREN!!  I have to go to the bathroom.", but no one seemed to hear as there was no response.  It occurred to me that, when we were kids, this had become our playroom.  And I seemed to remember that our mothers had done something to the room to make it soundproof?  That's right!  I had forgotten, but now I remembered as a kid, if I wanted to call for my mom, I had to open the door so she could hear.  Looking at the closed door, I knew I could scream my head off and you could barely hear me in the hall, let alone the rest of the house.  I guess there was nothing to do but wait.  I waited patiently but Karen didn't come back!  What could I do but lay down in the bed?  And since I was already tuckered out from the trip and all the activity, it should be no surprise that I was quickly out like a light.  If I had any idea what was to come, I would've fought that sleep with all my might!