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Learning His Numbers - Part 6
🕑 Added 2023-10-30 12:00:01 +0000 UTCThis is actually not Halloween themed, just as a warning. We're actually getting a bit of a jump on the Thanksgiving season, since this is a two-parter.
It was still weird, Josh thought to himself idly, glancing over at the open book on the floor in front of him. An outside observer might have assumed it was his outfit he was thinking about - the soggy diaper and onesie, decorated with autumn-colored leaves - or perhaps what he was doing - sitting in a playpen, finger painting a picture of a turkey, while glancing at a thick, cardboard baby book about Thanksgiving, open to a page about turkeys so he could try to get it just right - but they would be wrong.
The weird part, for him, after all this time, was seeing Miss Autumn outside of the classroom, or a field trip, or anything directly school related. The book had been homework, not that it was difficult, since it was meant for toddlers; otherwise, it was simply a visit to Autumn's house for Thanksgiving. He'd said yes immediately when she'd invited him, of course, assuming that she would expect him to help cook, though he had to admit he didn't really mind too much when she'd taken him to the playpen instead to keep him out from under her feet.
He would have lent a hand, probably should have, since he was there, he assumed, less as a student and more as... Whatever it was, exactly, they were. They had kissed a few times, and he had spent the weekend at her place now and then, on top of the hours and hours he'd spent at preschool with her, but he wasn't certain that they could really call what they were doing dating... And he couldn't ask his friends their opinion on the matter, either, without admitting what it was that made it so strange.
Still, it wasn't bad being told, "Oh, there's no need for you to worry about that," when he'd offered, being stripped down to the onesie she'd given him on the class before the fall equinox, told to, "Make something nice." He could have gone with crayons, or markers, but there was a comforting, visceral quality to finger painting that neither of those gave him.
He was a little nervous, at first, that Autumn would be annoyed at him for choosing that medium, having to remind himself that she'd left the paints there for him to use, if he wanted. He was doing relatively well, he thought, at not making a huge mess, even if he wasn't managing to stay completely clean... How could anyone, even the biggest boy imaginable, when they were dealing with finger paints?
And his picture was turning out pretty decently, too. Using the picture from the book as a reference, he'd made something that he was fairly sure anyone would look at and be able to tell was a turkey. It did also look like something that would be hanging on the fridge of a preschooler's parent, but that was kind of the point.
"There," he declared, putting on what he thought was the finishing touch, glancing back and forth between the book and his painting to confirm he hadn't missed anything. He couldn't wait to let Miss Autumn see it, when she was done cooking, just like he couldn't wait to eat, and then to spend the long, lazy afternoon with her afterwards, tummies full, nothing they had - or even could, for the most part, with most places being closed until at least that evening - to do except enjoy each other's company...
He was broken out of his train of thought by the sound of a doorbell, jolting him upright. Who could be at the door today, of all days?! He squirmed, wondering if he ought to answer before remembering what he was wearing, how he looked, hands covered in paint, not to mention the playpen he was sitting in, that he knew he wasn't supposed to get out of on his own. Then again, if Autumn wasn't expecting anyone, either, she was probably in the middle of something, and might not be able to stop to go see who it was.
"There they are!" he heard her chirp, seeing her pass by the living room, wiping her hands on her apron. He frowned, unsure what was going on, his stomach twisting anxiously as he heard trio of voices in the entryway joining Autumn's, thanking her for the invitation, not sounding at all like they were planning on just dropping by to say hello.
He wiggled in his playpen as Autumn led them into the living room, feeling particularly self-conscious when he saw how pretty the three young women were. Not as much as Autumn, of course, but they were all cute in their own ways, enough so that he couldn't help blushing, lowering his face, hoping that, somehow, they wouldn't notice him there.
"Aww," he heard one of them coo. "Doesn't Joshy look sweet?"
The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and, while he probably shouldn't have been surprised, considering Autumn had apparently invited them, hearing it say his name did make him feel a little less worried.
"Such a cute little artist," another one commented.
"He looks like a work of art himself, as much paint as he has on him," the third chuckled.
"Hey!" he pouted, unable to help himself. "I'm not that messy!"
"No, you aren't," Autumn smiled, walking over to him and patting him on the head. "Good job, Joshy. Now, then, these are my friends... They work at the school with me. This is Miss Dakota, Miss Bridget, and Miss Cyndi. Can you say hello?"
Josh's cheeks warmed as he glanced over at them bashfully, giving them a colorful wave. "H-Hi," he told them, as, finally, looking at them again, knowing they were from school, he was able to place why they had seemed familiar. They had all given him candy on Halloween, when Miss Autumn had taken him around the school to trick or treat.
Was that better, them having seen him in diapers and baby clothes before, or worse, since that was probably the only way they had seen him? His blush deepened, his diaper warming as Autumn patted him on the head again. "Good job, sweetie. He's such a polite little boy, both in and out of school..."
"It must be nice," Bridget said, "being able to see him apart from work."
"It is," Autumn agreed. "It's always nice to spend time with him."
"He's looking pretty soggy, though," Dakota smirked at Josh playfully.
Josh squirmed shyly, the movement confirming, indeed, how wet he actually was. He'd known he was, of course, but he hadn't realized how much he'd gone, how many times he must have dribbled without a second thought as he sat and finger painted.
"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine," Autumn told her. "His diapers are extra absorbent... They ought to hold up until we're done eating, no problem. Speaking of... If you girls want to help get him ready before lunch, I have the perfect outfit for him."
"Yes!" Bridget exclaimed eagerly.
"W-Wait..." Josh pouted, glancing down at his onesie with its leaves. "I-I thought..."
"You look wonderful," Autumn said. "And I'm very happy that you wore the onesie I got you. But it is Thanksgiving today, not just fall, isn't it?"
"W-Well, yeah," Josh nodded.
Autumn smiled. "So, I couldn't resist getting you a special outfit. You know how I love those! Now, can you be a good boy for your teachers while I go finish cooking?"
Josh gulped. "Y-Yes, Miss Autumn," he said obediently, bracing himself for whatever she had found for him while she opened up the playpen gate, let the other three women lead him off to the bathroom to wash his hands, and then to dress him up.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Autumn was right," Bridget declared. "It is perfect, isn't it?"
"I-I don't know," Josh fidgeted, getting a burst of giggles from his little audience. He blushed, a movement in the mirror across the room catching his eye, showing him what, exactly, had amused them so much.
The outfit itself was goofy enough, though, compared to a lot of the things Autumn had found for him, not that crazy, he had to admit. It was a footed onesie, brown, that also included a set of mittens built into the sleeves, and was clearly meant to look like - of course - a turkey. The tummy was an orange oval, and there was a hood attached with big, googly eyes and a felt beak sticking out, a wattle attached. The backside of it, however, was the most embarrassing part, the one that he knew they were all staring at. Back there, the tailfeathers were represented by a few rows of stiff ruffles in fall colors, ones that would shake with his every move, making every squirm as they teased him that much more obvious, even as he was sitting on the floor, staring up at them on the sofa, chatting.
"Trust us," Cyndi said condescendingly. "It is. We would know, wouldn't we?"
He nodded; they were the teachers, after all, and he was just a student at the preschool... They definitely knew more about pretty much everything than him, surely.
"That's right," Dakota chuckled. "Good boy... I bet you're a great student for Miss Autumn, aren't you?"
Josh's blush intensified. He couldn't help but wonder if Autumn had told them to talk to him like he was a child, if she'd let them know how little that made him feel, or if it simply came natural to them... He supposed, after they'd stripped him out of his leaf onesie, seen him in only his wet diaper, and dressed him up in this one, it made sense that they wouldn't think of him as an adult, even if he was around the same age as them... They'd been doing it well before that, however.
"I-I try," he replied bashfully.
"You try, huh?" Cyndi smiled. "Well, that's all we can ask for. You know, with an outfit like that, I bet you know a lot about turkeys, don't you?"
"Umm..." Josh's eyes darted over to the playpen, to the book Autumn had insisted he read. Was this what that had been for? Had she told them to give him a quiz on it? He'd read it, of course, and look at the turkey pages extensively while he was painting, but the thought of being tested on his knowledge still made him nervous. "I-I guess..."
"I'm sure you do," Cyndi said. "Let's see... What does turkey start with?"
Josh blinked. "Huh?"
"Turkey," Cyndi repeated patiently. "The word, sweetie... What letter does it start with?"
"O-Oh." That was what Josh had thought she meant, but it was so simple, he'd assumed he must be wrong. That was the kind of thing you might ask a preschooler, though, so it did make sense. "T?"
"Very good!" Cyndi complimented him.
"Let's see," Dakota picked up where her friend had left off. "What kind of an animal is a turkey?"
Josh let himself smile a little, feeling more confident, less intimidated. "A bird," he declared.
"Wonderful!" Bridget clapped her hands. "And now, this is a tough one, but I think you can do it, Joshy... What does the turkey say?"
"Gobble gobble!" Josh giggled, feeling silly, but not in a bad way, making that noise, dressed like this, all diapered up, in front of Miss Autumn's friends while they lavished praise on him.
"Such a clever boy," Cyndi said, giving him a wink. "I can see why you're Miss Autumn's favorite student."
"I-I don't know about that," Josh got shy again, looking down at the floor.
"Trust us," Dakota told him. "Hey, why don't you show us what you were working on before? I bet it's dry by now!"
Josh was glad for an excuse to waddle off for a moment or two, to give his face time to cool off, though when he saw the fruits of his labors - and had to try, more than once, to pick it up with the mittens on his onesie - he only got more bashful. Did it really look any better than anything any other preschooler could have made? He was pretty sure that, other than the size of his handprint, it would have fit right in with all the other ones he'd seen on Miss Autumn's wall at their last lesson at the school. Still, they'd asked to see it specifically, and there wasn't anything else he could do.
"Is that a self-portrait?" Bridget teased when she saw it.
Josh blush, glancing down at himself in the onesie, and nodded, the women all chuckling. "It's great, Josh," Bridget assured him. "You must be Miss Autumn's best student, too."
Josh certainly hoped so, considering the ages of his competition, but he smiled anyway, politely told her, "Thank you."
"That is perfect, Joshy," Autumn announced from the doorway. Josh looked up, heart beating a little faster, seeing her again, apron gone now. "Definitely gold star material. But for now... Lunch is ready, everyone. Let's go eat before it gets cold."
