My Indian Daughter Sucks Better Than My Wife

“Yeah,” Nicole looked towards the bedroom door where her teacher was. “Do you think you can take this off of me now, so I can use the toilet?” Nicole asked her with pleading eyes, but her tone was quite matter of fact.“Are you sure you’ll make it to the toilet?” Marrite asked her.“Yes, I’m quite sure,” Nicole looked at her with a pleading look. Her face gave a look like she wanted to put that diaper on her teacher.“Alright, come here so I can undo the tapes,” Marrite called to Nicole.Nicole didn’t really understand why she had even asked Marrite to undo the diaper for her instead of just doing it herself, except something deep within told her that it was just supposed to be this way, and to fight it would be a very bad idea.Marrite opened the diaper and let it fall to the floor so that Nicole could go to the bathroom.“While you are in there,” she called after her. “Take your shower, and then come and get me to help you get ready for your classes.”“I’m not five,” Nicole looked at her. After a few tries I had it downperfectly. I found myself asking Fred if he'd rather I played bass givenhis expertise on the guitar. "Don't worry Joan, you'll have ample opportunities to play the bass. Haveyou ever played it before?" he asked and laughed. I laughed as well andhad to admit that I hadn't, but how hard could it be? There were onlyfour strings! He handed the Fender Bass to me and picked up hisRickenbacker. We spent the rest of the afternoon working on "Go Your OwnWay". I couldn't ever remember time passing as quickly as it did thatafternoon. "So, do you guys think there's a place for me in your band?" Darla askedinnocently. I knew I had no say in the matter, but if it was up to meshe'd be in no questions asked. Fred remained non-committal and simply said, "We'll see." Darla seemed placated by that remark. We wrapped up the practice and Itold Fred I had his money for him. I also told him that my mother neededa receipt for insurance purposes. OK, so I lied. Still, I didn't.
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