Diane carried me back to her room to change. She threw on a top and a skirt, and very much reminded me of a stereotypical 1970’s housewife as she slipped on some heels. They looked like they hadn’t been worn in years.

      I sat on her bed. “What am I supposed to wear?” I wondered aloud. It just occurred to me that nothing I owned was going to fit me anymore.

      “Oh, don’t worry about that dear. I don’t mind.” Diane waved me off dismissively.

      Sweet, no clothes! This was great.

      Diane carried me downstairs and into the kitchen to make some lunch, as I realized it was now about 11 in the morning. She set me down on the granite counter. It was rather cool to the touch, and I was pretty uncomfortable.

      Diane rummaged through the cupboards, and pulled out some instant oatmeal. She threw it in the microwave and set it to cook before she spotted me squirming.

      “Oh, honey that counter must be cold. Here let me put you down.” She set me on to stand on the ground before going back to rummaging through the counters.

      I just realized that this was my first chance to escape, but I wasn’t sure that I even wanted to. I was curious to see how this would all go down. Besides, she seemed to trust me a bit more, as I was out of her sight. Maybe this would be my new life?

      Diane set the steaming bowl on the kitchen counter and grabbed a spoon before stepping over me and hoisting me up. She set me on the edge of the table, which wasn’t cold.

      “There you are!”

      She quickly scooped a spoonful of oatmeal, and blew on it several times to cool it off. I got it- she was going to feed me. I felt a bit like a king.

      She offered it to me and smiled, and I graciously accepted it. The spoon, which to a normal person was a small spoon, filled my entire mouth. I realized I’d have to eat carefully or I’d spill its contents all over me.

      The big crunchy oats were difficult to chew and swallow. I had a rough time of it, and several times I spilled on myself as Diane fed me. She didn’t seem to care, and told me she’d clean it up afterwards.

      I filled up rather easily, and Diane threw the rest away. I was covered in oats, and Diane saw that it was pretty uncomfortable for me. She rinsed me off in the sink and dried me with a dishtowel.

      “There you go.” She held me to her breast. Suddenly I didn’t feel so good. My world swirled and zoomed in and out of focus.

      “Diane! I’m not feeling so great…” I murmured. Something was definitely wrong. I felt drugged.

      She threw me over her shoulder and patted me on the back. “It’s ok sweetie, that’s normal. I gave you a pretty big dose that time.”

      What was she talking about? Dose? Did she put something in my food?

      I began to visibly feel myself shrinking. My head swirled, like I was drunk and had bed spins. I thought maybe that I would hurl. Diane thumped me repeatedly on the back, and her hand falls felt harder and harder as I shrunk. How much shrinking stuff had she given me? I kind of blacked out for a second.

      Suddenly I realized we were in the living room, on the couch. Diane had turned the TV on and was cradling me in her arms like a baby. Except I was a lot smaller than your average baby. She was completely unaware that her tiny man had awoken.

      I knew as I gazed up at her that I had to be less than a foot tall. Her massive arms and forearms were longer than my whole body. I felt a weird combination of fear and helplessness, as my sickness overtook me once again. As I blacked out one more time, I wondered if I was going to die from shrinking.