Transplanted Life
Monday, April 26, 2004
What did I say about not being Carter's mother?
Sometimes you just have to lay down the law, I guess. I'd been nervous about going to work, although I think it would do both me and Carter good not to be seeing each other after basically being in each other's company constantly since Friday. It was hard, because he feels like he should be going in there, too, but he can't. I told him that I'd tell Mr. Kraft everything if he wanted, because they could certainly use a couple more programmers right now (although my skills must be out of date), but Carter is not up for that in any way, shape, or form. I asked him to at least not sit around in bed all day, but to get up and move around, stay strong, that stuff.

Anyway, I finally noticed when I got home - and I feel stupid for not noticing it sooner - that he was still wearing the same sweats he was wearing when he checked out of the hospital. And, from the smell of it, probably the same underwear. He confirmed it when I asked.

"Look, Carter, I'm not going to make you live your life any way you don't want to, but eventually you're going to have to clean up, okay? I mean, I've got to live here too."

And then it hit me. "You haven't seen yourself naked yet, have you?"

"I've seen myself naked. Samantha Haskins is another story."

I let out a sigh. "Carter, I know what you're going through, believe me. If we ever figure out a way to put Sam's mind back in that body, I'm sure she'll forgive you. She'll be much more upset if you let it get gross, I'm sure."


"And I've been through the whole 'shocked by the totality of the naked body' thing, believe me. You've got to get past it, though."

Carter wanted to say something, but didn't. I think it was starting to bug him, too, but getting naked and soaping Sam's body up was something he had to be told way okay.

Then we had to look through my drawers for some stuff that would fit Sam's body. She's a petite thing, but Carter was just looking for some sweats to sleep in tonight; I told him we'd return the stuff Mrs. Haskins bought tomorrow and get him something he feels more comfortable in. Although he thankfully allowed he could wear some of the panties she'd bought. I didn't even bring up the bras; I think I'd pushed my luck as far as I could tonight, and it's not like Carter's anywhere near as well-endowed as I am.

So, anyway, that's what he's doing now. I think it's a good sign that he seems hungry, too - there's a box of frozen waffles in the trash and he's asked what's for dinner.

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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at