Naughty or Nice : A Onesie Tale

 

HELP A DAD OUT!

TiredDad: Hey guys, I know you all are used to my posts by now. But I gotta fess up. Things have changed recently. Have you guys seen those posts floating on the blogs about the onesies aging people up? Any idea on returns, can’t find the site where I bought it?

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My twin boys, Trent and TK, are my life. Though things got strange around Christmas. I thought buying this year's themed pajamas for family photos was going to be hilarious. You see, it’s no secret Trent’s the outgoing wild one and TK’s the shy reserved one. It’s pretty much an open joke with the family at this point. My boys and I do a Post-Christmas card every year with a family pajama photo included. So, naturally I thought playing with established dynamics would be funny. Doing my normal shopping search, when up pops a link to another site. A quick click through and I realized; It was perfect! A promise of clothes that’d help get wearers in a festive mood. Now my sons and I were pretty festive enough, baking cookies, wrapping gifts wer all apr of our routine but extra festiveness didn’t hurt.

Annoyingly, I had to go to another site for my outfit. But the photos were all planned out, have Trent wear white, like he’s the ‘Nice' one and have TK dress in red like the ‘Naughty’ one. A funny commentary opposite of their actual personalities. Then I’d be dressed as Santa with an outfit that’s a combination of both their color schemes. I could stand in between them, pretending to prevent a fight, or look at a Christmas list. There was genuinely no way I saw it going wrong.They were typically the first presents we opened on Christmas, always wrapped a bit different than the rest. I should have figured at some point in their lives, just to mess with me, Trent would goad TK into opening their pajama gifts early. That way I’d look like the odd ball out on Christmas morning. I’ll admit, I did hear them whispering in their room. Trent never fully mastered the art of an inside voice. I even heard them sneaking downstairs and going through presents. 

Why didn’t I stop them? Look, it was early in the morning and opening a few gifts wasn't going to ruin anything. I simply rolled over smirking, satisfied with myself for electing to choose sleep. Then there was a plop onto the floor, followed by a second one. Sitting up in bed, realizing there were no more shuffling boxes sounds, I listened closely. A shout came from downstairs, but it was distorted, muffled. Now in action mode, I jolted up from bed throwing the covers. Thinking back on it, I probably should have gone downstairs  in more than just underwear. But hey, I was a fit guy, kept in shape! Maybe it was my dumb man-brain believing I could scare anything away with my muscles and the bat behind my door. Moving downstairs like a sneaking knight at the ready, I lowered my arms upon discovering the source of the sound.

Under the Christmas tree, alongside the presents, there were rolling masses of red and white fabric in our living room. I heard my boy’s voices from within, finally realizing they had picked out the onesies and put them on. Resting the bat next to the staircase, I strolled up to them so assured that this was more of Trent’s prank. I was amazed at how they had managed to roll themselves up into balls, and didn't believe there was enough fabric for that. “Alright boys, you’ve had your fun.” I said as I squatted between them having shoved presents aside. 

“Dad! Dad!” Their voices shouted. It gave me pause as they sounded genuinely scared. My eyes roamed over the fabric, noticing I didn’t see an opening for either of the onesies. No sleeves or pants legs hanging off and no hole for their head. My hand reached out to the red mass, curious at first, as I searched for an exit, feeling my son underneath my palm. I found his head and arms, but they didn't lead me to any openings. Growing more concerned, I reached out to the white mass one, both hands this time, still ignoring reality and looking for what should have been there. I remembered getting the onesies, wrapping them, and putting my boys' names on the boxes. At no point were the onesies anything but plain clothes. The longer I stared, Christmas lights on my face, the more it felt like my boys’ struggles were against a blob made of cloth. Watching their fists and legs flail, that was the only thing my mind could conjure. Not my sons rolling around in fabric, but roiling creatures that contained my boys.

My searching became more frantic, not finding anything. I shifted Trent’s mass in the white around, no exit on the backside. Trying for the red mass that was TK I got the same result. Then the bright idea to rip the onesies popped into my head. No, I didn’t go for scissors, Why? I don’t know the spur of the moment type of thing. Also, I couldn’t guarantee it would have been safe with my sons failing about. Regardless, my upper body strength meant nothing, the cloth would stretch but refused to tear. 

I thought my eyes and ears were playing tricks on me, when the two blobs began to expand and my sons’ shouting stopped. Presents being physically moved aside let me know it was quite real. The shape and lumps from my sons against the onesies steadily expanded. Mass was being pulled from god knows where and stuffed into the blobs. Every passing second there were more of my boys, and in tandem fabrics to contain them, in space. Their shouts had  morphed into gentle moans. More uneasy than before, I pressed my hands down into the blobs feeling around for my sons. Thankfully, my boys were there, but their bodies were larger, growing still with pulses like heart beats. My sons were right in front of me, under a thin layer that divided us and I couldn’t do anything. Hard flesh constantly met my fingers as muscles rose up on their bodies. Abs formed, pecs popped, shoulders stretched, backs hardened, and asses were birthed as faces elongated.

The wobbling had devolved into writhing. And even then, with much stronger and more powerful limbs battling against it, my sons couldn’t break free. I was speechless watching it play out. A point came where my sons kept growing, but the onesies had no more thread to call upon. Muscular outlines began to press up through the onesies, contouring all the extra space to the forms underneath. They appeared trapped in a faux-fetal position movement getting more restricted,as their bodies dominated the internal space. I saw my chance, Trent’s and Tk’s features were practically showing through. Grabbing at the red fabric I tore, and to the delight of my ears heard tearing as TK’s head was freed. He gasped for air with a face I didn’t recognize, it was older, mature. It didn’t matter. I kissed his forehead before moving to free his brother, Trent’s head popped out with the same face as his brother. I wrapped him in my arms cradling him. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again!”

“Woah Dad, it was TK’s idea to rearrange the gifts and gaslight you.” Trent stated in my arms. ”I thought it was a harmless enough prank.”  Unfortunately, I had no idea what he was referring to, as I had heard him in bed suggest they come downstairs.

The mass entrapping my son’s began to change. Where I tore their heads free and ripped down from, morphed into proper neck lines as buttons formed along the tears straightening it up. Now it looked like I had opened their onesie’s, leaving a view of their bodies underneath. Took me by such surprise, I didn't even notice when their hands and legs came free. Then, the world shifted back into place, my sons were wearing the onesies I had bought except in new sizes. 

“Hey, you didn’t have to tell him ass!” TK blurted out. I’m not naive nor stupid, people cuss all the time, but that was the first time I’d even heard such a phrase leave TK’s mouth, especially in front of me. If it had been Trent sure I could believe a slip up, but TK? No way. 

“How could I not? He heard us trip over the boxes. You think he can't put two and two together.”  Trent shot back. The oddest thing to me was I could never believe Trent snitching so easily on his brother.

I tried to ask my sons if they were okay after the whole fiasco, but they had no idea what I was talking about. They were convinced my talk about the onesies trapping them and the rapid growth was some form of joke back at them. While their story was that TK was trying to mess with me, move things under the tree a little and make it feel off. 

There was nothing I could do, the world had warped my sons and seemed ready to move on. If that wasn’t bad enough, Trent’s and TK’s personalities now aligned with their onesie’s. The whole point was that they were opposites! I was calling people up, my ex-wife, my parents, no one remembered the boys any differently. There was no way I was going to win so I let it go in the moment. If anything the boys were more festive when it was time to take the family pictures. However, when I went to snap a photo of the two of them. I noticed a glint in their eyes as they stared at me. Even for TK there wasn’t a lot ‘Nice’ in it. In fact there was nothing but ‘Naugthy’ as they bit into their Christmas cookies. I didn’t quite digest the fact, they hadn’t buttoned up the onesies and were showing off more skin than needed for the camera. Felt like they were trying to...entice me, but that was just my imagination right?