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Tuesday: 4’2”

I woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting into my room.  I felt well-rested from my long sleep (just over 12 hours!) yet all my muscles were sore as hell from my full-body ‘workout’ last night.  As I lay in bed for a minute, I remembered something that almost caused me to scream in frustration: I never went to the doctor’s house to get the antidote!!!  Holy balls, I was furious at myself.  Not that I had ever gotten a chance to last night, but still, every day that went by meant another two inches shorter I would be for the entire rest of my life.  It was bad enough now at 4’2”, and I didn’t care to imagine how much worse my life would get if I couldn’t get that antidote!  I got out of bed in a rotten mood, put on some of my kids’ clothes, slipped the piece of paper with the doctor’s address into my pocket just in case, and wandered downstairs, where Kyra had just finished preparing breakfast.

She was wearing an apron over a pair of short khaki shorts and a blue t-shirt with, of course, a very low neckline.  As usual, the mere sight of my daughter took my breath away, and despite my foul mood I found my pecker getting hard, as it is wont to do first thing in the morning.  It also didn’t help that it had been several days now since I had had any sexual release.  Hell, I couldn’t remember exactly when the last time was.

As I approached the table, I realized that there was at least one positive with her outfit: no heels, for once.  So she actually seemed a tiny bit shorter than yesterday when she had heels.  If you can call 2 feet taller than me ‘shorter.’  As it was, though, my eyes were only about even with her belly button.

“Good morning, sleepy head!” Kyra called, in a buoyant mood.  “I made us breakfast!”  I headed for the fridge.  “I’ll get it for you.  What would you like, milk or orange juice?”

“Uh … orange juice,” I replied, finding her generosity rather … unsettling, considering her usual M.O.  “What’s this all about?” I asked distrustfully.

She brought it over as I climbed into my seat.  Setting my glass on the table, she rested her hand on my shoulders tenderly and leaned in intimately, completely filling my vision with her radiant beauty and warmth.  “It’s just a little way to show my appreciation for your good behavior last night, honey.”  She bent down and gave me a kiss on the forehead, causing her gaping cleavage to jiggle deliciously.  Standing up straight, she went back to the stove and served up a single plate.

As she set it in front of me, I realized it was way, way more than I could hope to eat.  Hell, it would have been a hearty breakfast for me when I was 6’6”.  “Mommy, this is really nice of you, but I can’t eat this much by myself.”

Kyra laughed jovially.  “Silly Jimmy, that’s not just for you!”  I was puzzled as to why she set it in front of me, but I would soon find out.  She brought over another chair and sat down next to me, then proceeded to tuck a napkin under my shirt collar and lay another across my lap, like yesterday.  Picking up the only fork, she scooped up a bit of scrambled eggs and said, “Open wide!”

Oh, no.  She was feeding me again.  Thinking quickly, I replied as sweetly and innocently as possible, “But Mommy, I thought maybe after my lesson last night you could trust me to feed myself again?”

“Haha!  Silly Jimmy, you didn’t learn to eat better.  All you learned is that you are ‘little and weak and helpless and can’t take care of yourself anymore,’ remember?”

Shit!  She had a point; after all, she had just quoted me word for word from last night.  Seeing no way out of this, I had to concede.  “You’re right, Mommy, I’m sorry.”

Smiling warmly, she responded, “It’s OK, Jimmy, there’s nothing wrong with needing a little help from your mommy.  Now open up!”  I opened wide as she navigated the food into my mouth like an airplane and had me bite down.  “Mmmm, yummy, isn’t it?” she cooed.  I nodded.

She then alternately fed herself two bites, then one for me, then two for her, and so on, obviously realizing that I needed far less food than her now.

While we ate, she told me, “You know, I was really worried about you last night.  I didn’t think you were going to come around and learn your lesson.  But you did, didn’t you?” She pinched my cheek.  “You must have been tuckered out from your little workout.”

“I’m really sore,” I replied dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

“Aww, poor baby!  Well, it’s a good thing you changed your attitude when you did, otherwise you might have been a lot sorer!” she said playfully.  I didn’t like how cheery she was about it; it seemed pretty freakin’ serious to me.  But, not wanting to sour her mood, I forced a smile and nodded.

The longer she fed me, the more I became entranced by the movement of her body next to mine.  She would lean forward to pick up another forkful then turn her shoulders to me and lean in to put it in my mouth, causing her boob to squish wonderfully into my arm.  More and more I began to keep my head turned toward her, pretending that I was intently listening to her words, but in reality stealing glances at her exquisite breasts at every opportunity.  I just couldn’t help myself, and I hope she didn’t notice my napkin tenting up on my lap.

She kept talking as she fed us.  “Ms. Adams was just so delighted by your change in behavior, young man!”  She pulled me with her arm for a semi-hug, causing her boobs to press oh-so-wonderfully into me.

“Mmm,” a soft moan escaped my lips, and I scrambled to turn it into a sentence.  “Mm-my pleasure.”  She was really starting to get to me.

“I’m just so glad that you were so cooperative; it really sent me and Amy’s friendship off on a great note.  I have a feeling the two of us will be BFFs in no time!”

She gave me another warm squeeze, and through my now intense arousal I barely managed to get off an ‘uh-huh’ in response.  I wasn’t sure I liked the two of them being friends; it could only lead to Kyra’s preposterous treatment of me rubbing off on Amy as well.  But at least it will give me more chances to see Amy, whereas otherwise I actually might never see her again.

I got full pretty quickly, so I just sat there while Kyra finished up the plate.  Her off-hand had begun stroking the back of my neck affectionately, sending waves of sensations down my spine.  She finished eating, but instead of getting up she set the fork down and turned both of our chairs so that we were directly facing one another, and it was quite a struggle to keep my eyes off her chest.

“Jimmy, honey, I’m so glad you’re finally learning your place in the family.”  She leaned forward and took my tiny hands in hers, and in so doing her arms pressed her boobs together.  Combined with the leaning forward, it was now quite impossible for me to avoid glancing down at her chest.

She was far from oblivious to his reaction.  “I saw you looking at my chest all during breakfast, Jimmy.  And I saw what’s going on in your pants.”   Panic bells went off in my head.  To soothe me, she squeezed my hands and continued tenderly, “It’s OK, Jimmy, I know you can’t control yourself around my body.”  I blushed profusely.  “In the past, I haven’t allowed such naughty behavior.  But,” she added, lowering her voice, “you’ve been such a good boy lately that I will allow you to look at me as much as you desire.”

WHAT!  Was she really saying this!?  “I know how eager you are to please me when you’re like this, and I think it could really help strengthen our relationship,” she said maternally.  “And,” she continued, gently laying her hand on my thigh, “I’m sure you remember what happens if you’re a good boy, hmm?  What I would do for you if you’ve behaved yourself for an entire day?”

I could hardly process what she was saying; as soon as she said I was free to look at her as much as I wanted, my eyes just couldn’t seem to peel themselves away from her bosom.  But I heard her enough to nod at her last question.

“Good,” she cooed.  “You see, there’s no need to keep fighting me like before.  Mommy can do soooo much for you if you’re a good little boy.”  With that, she gave my thigh a squeeze while bending forward and planting another kiss on my forehead.  The combined effect was almost too much to bear, and I nearly came right then and there.

But, fortunately, she relented before it was too late.  Pulling me off the chair, she led me over to the wall and measured me.  “4 feet, 2 inches!” she announced, too excitedly for my taste.  “My goodness, I was only 5 years old then!  At least you’re still average for an 8-year-old boy.”  My heart sank at this unwanted news.  Kyra continued, “Now I have a call to make before we head out.  Go brush your teeth and put your shoes on, please.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.  Now shoo!” she said playfully, nudging me toward the stairs.

After brushing my teeth, I came back down just as she was dialing a number.  She closed the phone book before I could see whose number it was, though.

“Yes, hi!  My name is Kyra Roberts, and I was wondering if I could bring my 8-year-old son, Jimmy, in today? … Yes, this is his first time there … Uh-huh … Absolutely, I’d be happy to fill out any forms.  And how late are you open? … 6 o’clock? Sounds great.  We’ll be there soon.”  I had no idea who she had called, but despite her pleasant mood I had a bad feeling about this.

We drove for about 15 minutes, although I still had no clue where I was headed.  Was she having a friend watch me during the day?  No, not based on the phone call.  It sounded more like a business, but what kind of business would just let you drop someone off for the day?  … Wait a minute.  If Kyra saw me as a child now, then it would be somewhere you can drop your kid off for the day, and have other people watch after them …  OH NO.  She wouldn’t! … Would she?

My worst fears were realized as we pulled into the Sunnyside Day Care Center.  “Ummm … Mommy?” I said, almost too shocked for words.

“Here we are, Jimmy!” she announced cheerfully, pulling into a parking spot.

“I … uh … but … why?” was all I managed.

“What’s the matter, Jimmy?  This is where mothers drop off their little kids for the day.  And you are a little kid, right?  ... RIGHT?”

Under her still-friendly glance, I detected a note of sternness and authority in her eyes.  I grudgingly told her, “Yes, Mommy,” and my whole body seemed to deflate as I exhaled loudly.

“Well then, that’s settled!” she said all-too-happily.  “Oh, but before we go in, there’s one thing I need to clear up.”  She leaned towards me, probably to tempt me again with her cleavage.  Of course, I checked her out as intently as I possibly could.  “You’re free to look at my body when we’re alone, Jimmy, but it just won’t do to have people seeing my son ogling his mother’s body, especially not a pre-pubescent little boy like you.  So that means when we’re in public you may not look at me in a sexual way, and in particular you may not look at my breasts at all.  Not even a glance.  Oh, and one more thing,” she added, pointing to the erection pushing against my pants, “make sure that your wee-wee doesn’t show any erections; I can’t have people wondering about my little 8-year-old.  OK?”

I was miserably uncomfortable at that point, but I replied, “OK.”  Kyra coughed expectantly, and I realized I was still showing.  “Oh, right.”  My face turned pink as I awkwardly fumbled in my pants to reposition my wiener in a more discreet way.

“Good boy,” Kyra said, back to her cheerful self.  “Let’s go.”  As I reluctantly stepped out, she took my hand and led me inside.

I wanted to throw up.  Seriously, I felt like I would vomit.  I looked around me at the brightly-painted walls of the day care center covered with pictures of ponies and unicorns and cartoon characters.  There were stuffed animals and kids’ toys strewn about the play area.  And, of course, the place was crawling with little kids running to and fro, yelling, crying, laughing, whining, and any other emotion that seemed specifically designed to make noise and be generally obnoxious.  I never really liked little kids; I found them rather annoying and puerile, especially in large groups, and I was never good at interacting with them.  I just … I don’t know, I just couldn’t handle dumbing myself down for them or whatever.  Don’t get me wrong; I loved Kyra to death when she was little, and I could usually cope with one or two kids at a time, but once they hit a critical mass they just seem to go out of control.

But, alas, here I was, about to be thrown right into their midst – as one of their equals, to boot!!!  And as bad as it was having my former daughter treat me like a child at home, it had been even worse for her to treat me as such in front of my coworkers yesterday.  But this!  This was a new low.  At least yesterday she had only condescended to me and acted as if I were a child, even though my coworkers knew better.  But now she was making it official, declaring to all the world that this little guy here, he was never a full-grown man – no, of course not!  He’s merely an 8-year-old child, and who would ever suspect otherwise!

The utter depths of humiliation to which Kyra was now subjecting me I was only just beginning to fathom, though I would have plenty of time throughout the day for it to sink in more fully.  I recoiled in horror, trying to pull back, to escape from this dreaded place.  But Kyra’s hand held me firm as she continued on to the front desk.

“Good morning!” said the receptionist, a decently attractive woman in her late 30s.  She was solidly built but not manly by any means, and from the looks of her one might guess that she was a mother herself and was kind yet strict with kids when she needed to be.

“Good morning to you too!  My name is Kyra Roberts; I just called about 20 minutes ago?”

“Yes, of course!  Nice to meet you, Ms. Roberts.  And you are … Jimmy?” she asked down to me.

They both looked down at me, waiting for my response.  Kyra squeezed my hand forcefully and told me, “Answer the nice lady when she asks you a question.”

My eyes welling up with tears, I managed to softly croak out something that sounded like ‘Yes.’

Kyra turned back to the receptionist and added, “Sorry, he’s really shy around strangers, plus this is his first time in a day care.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.  Most kids his age haven’t gotten over their shyness yet.  Now here are your forms to fill out, if you don’t mind.  And Jimmy can feel free to roam around in the meantime.”

“Thank you,” Kyra replied, taking the forms and sitting on a nearby couch.

I sure as hell didn’t want to ‘roam around,’ so I followed her, desperately wanting to plead my case and go elsewhere.  “Please don’t do this to me!” I begged, clutching her knee.  “I thought I was being good, and you were happy with me, so why are you punishing me like this!?”

Kyra appeared startled by this.  “Punishing you?  How in the world am I punishing you, young man?  We just talked about this; it’s perfectly normal for me to leave my child here while I go to school.”

I was desperate.  I had to make a stand, right here, right now, to regain what small, tattered shreds of dignity I still clung to.  “This is serious!  I know you think I’m your little kid now” –her eyes went wide in astonished anger –“I mean, I AM your little kid, of course,” I hastily added, trying to avoid utter disaster for myself.  “But I’m just saying that I’m … not like the other kids here, if you know what I mean?”  Obviously she did know, but she made no such indication.

I continued anxiously, “You can’t just put me here like any other kid!  I mean, I’m still … “ –I had to phrase this delicately –“Well, it’s just that I’m a lot … smarter than the other kids, and I know a lot more, and I’m more … mature in some ways, and I can’t just pretend I’m not and play with LEGOs and try to act like them!  Please, Mommy, this is the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done in my entire life!”  My heart was beating a mile a minute by that point.  I had just given an incredibly risky speech which would almost certainly lead to some form of punishment, but I just … well, I just HAD to try.  Even as tamed and domesticated as Kyra has made me in the last few weeks, I still could never live with myself if I didn’t fight to hold onto this last remnant of my manhood.  I was not yet ready to let myself be transformed fully into a child without making some sort of stand.

Kyra regarded me coolly, betraying no emotion except through a few blinks of her eyes as she was no doubt figuring out what to do with me.  I’m sure I didn’t want to find out.  As her silence continued, a sense of dread began to take hold.  Oh shit, how could I have been so fucking stupid!?

Still emotionless, she calmly set her forms down on a coffee table, reached out and grabbed my hand with an iron grip, stood, and walked me back to the front desk.  “Sorry to bother you again,” Kyra said in a completely level voice.  “Is there somewhere I can go to have a little … talk with my son?  He’s been acting very immature about me leaving him here, and I don’t want to make a scene …”

“Oh?”  The receptionist raised her eyebrows as she glanced down at me.  “I’m sorry to hear that.  Well … I’m technically not supposed to, but I’ll let you into the storage room back here.”

“Thank you,” Kyra replied curtly as the receptionist lead us behind her desk and opened a door.

“Take all the time you need!  And, between you and me,” she said confidentially, drawing Kyra’s ear closer, but still talking just loud enough that I could also hear, “if he needs a spanking, go right ahead.  It’s against our rules, but I won’t tell anyone.”

Kyra nodded courteously and led me into the small, cramped room, shutting the door behind me.  Then the terror really began to hit me.  Wishing to retract some (or all) of my statements, I started, “Look, Mommy, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things—“

“Shut up!” Kyra snapped in a loud whisper, so as not to make too much noise.  She grabbed the middle of my shoulder and pinched hard, causing me to wince and bunch up my shoulders as I cowered under her.  “Here I thought that I was actually getting through to you, that you were actually going to start behaving yourself.  But then you give that little tirade out there, out in the open no less, where anyone could hear you, and you tell me that you’re ‘too mature’ to be here and you ‘can’t get along’ with other kids,” she said mockingly.  “But I have a news flash for you, Jimmy: you are EVERY BIT as immature as those kids out there, probably even more so.  I’m sure most of them at least know better than to talk back to their parents.  Just how do you think it would make me look, if someone had overheard your immature little rant?  Huh?  How would that make me look as a parent?  Well, I will not tolerate my child embarrassing me, especially not in front of others.  Pants down, now.”

“I’m sorry!  I won’t—“

She pinched harder and repeated in a hoarse whisper, “NOW!”  I scurried to comply with her demand, dropping my pants in record time, along with my tightie whities just to be sure.  With nowhere to sit, Kyra grabbed both of my wrists in one huge hand and raised my arms straight up against the wall.  With her other hand, she picked up a small stuffed animal from the nearby shelf and crammed it into my mouth to silence my cries.  Then she began to slap my ass mercilessly in a short but intense spanking session until my eyes were swollen with tears and I begged through my gag for it to stop.

“I’m letting you off with just a light beating for now, since I have to get to class and you’ve already made me late enough as it is.  But you listen good: I expect you to forget all this ‘macho-man, I’m-so-mature’ crap, and I expect you to be on your ABSOLUTE best behavior today.  If you are, I just MIGHT forget about this little incident just now, and if I’m feeling really, really nice I might even give you your special playtime tonight.”  She reached down and brusquely grabbed hold of my junk for a brief moment as a not-so-gentle reminder.  “But," she added in a dark voice, "if I hear a single word about you acting up, or being mean to anyone, or trying to talk like you’re older than the little boy that you are, then your punishment will not be easy, young man.  I will not have people thinking I don’t know how to raise my son.  Is that clear?”

She removed the gag from my mouth and I nodded vigorously, saying “Yes ma’am!  Absolutely clear!”  I would tell her anything at that point to get myself out of trouble.

“Pull up your pants and wipe your tears,” she admonished.  I quickly dressed then rubbed away the wetness from my eyes all the way down to my neck.  Once I was decent (albeit with puffy red eyes from the crying) she grabbed my hand and led me back to the front desk.

“Thank you so much,” Kyra told the receptionist.

“Don’t mention it.  I trust he won’t be a problem any longer?” she inquired, eyeing me condescendingly.

Kyra gave me a nudge in the back.  I got the hint and spoke up, “No, ma’am!”

She smiled warmly.  “Glad to hear it!  My name is Mrs. Walker,” she told me, extending her hand to me.

I shook it weakly, mumbling, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Oh, he’s so adorable!” Mrs. Walker.  “I’m sure he’ll fit in just fine here.  I’m looking forward to taking care of him.”

“Oh, my apologies, I took you for a receptionist!” Kyra replied.

“Haha, that’s perfectly understandable, but since we only really need someone to sit here before and after the work day, all of us supervisors take turns covering the desk at those times but then we all devote our complete attention to the kids during the day.”

“Well, I will feel good knowing he’ll have you to watch over him.  Now, I hate to ask this, but … could you possibly keep an extra-close eye on him today?  He’s just been getting himself into SO much trouble lately, and I’m not sure he's mature enough to cope with this new environment.”

“Don’t worry, Kyra, he’s in good hands.  I’ll make sure to watch him myself, and I’ll give you a full report when you return.”

“Wonderful, thank you!  After our little … chat in the closet”—Kyra winks confidentially at Mrs. Walker –“he knows I expect him to be on his best behavior, so you shouldn’t have any problems, but then again you never know.  Until then … will it be OK if I finish these forms this afternoon?  I’m already running late, thanks to Jimmy’s immaturity.”

“No problem, honey, you run along and leave him to me.”

Kyra thanked her again and kneeled in front of me.  “Don’t forget what we talked about, OK Jimmy?”  I nodded and told her OK.  With that, she gave me a kiss on the forehead and headed out the door.

“Well, Jimmy, I’m sure you’re going to love it here!” Mrs. Walker said, crouching down towards me and tousling my hair.  I absolutely HATED when people did that.  “Come on, I’ll show you around.”  She proffered her hand and I grudgingly took it, letting her lead me around the premises.

There was one large room in the middle of the building where most of the toys and activities were.  A few side rooms, as well as the front lobby, were barred by two insurmountably high gates surrounding the entirety of the main play area.  In reality, the gates were merely 5 feet high with smooth bars that prevented climbing by little tykes like me, and, as I was just finding out, the only way to unlock them was by pressing a keycard to a sensor at the top.  And the only keycards were the ones that the supervisors carried around their necks.

After showing me the inside, Mrs. Walker led me to the back of the main room where sliding doors allowed access to an outdoor area.  Some play equipment, sandboxes, and benches dotted the lawn, which was entirely enclosed by the side of the building as well as what truly was a high fence – probably twice my height.

Leading me back inside, she told me, “Right now is free time, when you may play with anything you want inside or out.  The only rules are to play nice and share the toys with others.  We also have some scheduled activities throughout the day, like movies or nap time, which we will announce.  If you hurt yourself or need to go to the bathroom or anything else, come see one of us supervisors in our red shirts.  Any questions, little fella?”

I simply shook my head no, still too mortified at all of this to speak.  “Good.  And remember, if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to talk to me or another supervisor.”

I nodded meekly, and she gave my hand a warm squeeze before letting go and turning her attention elsewhere.  I looked around me, and finally the horror of my situation hit me with full force.  I was in the middle of a sea of little rascals.  Everywhere I looked, there were more and more of them, and I was stuck in their midst for the entire freakin’ day.  But the most truly appalling thing about being amongst these children was that they were as big as me – and many were even bigger!  While there were quite a few toddlers and preschoolers, many were definitely in elementary school, ranging from around 5 to 11 years old.  And, being only as tall as your typical 8-year-old, some of these kids loomed over me by a solid 6 inches!

Hating my life, I looked about in despair and found a nice secluded corner where I had the best shot at some privacy.  As I headed for it, though, I saw a couple of girls running towards me from the side, playing tag, but I reacted too late and before I knew it I had been knocked onto the ground, with a not-so-little girl falling on top of me.

She didn’t so much as say sorry before she picked herself up and ran off, shrieking with delight as her pursuer finally tagged her.  I slowly dragged myself onto my feet and brushed myself off.  Crap, that really hurt!  It’s not every day that someone your own size tackles you like a football player, even though in my case she was just a little girl!  The only lasting effect was a rug burn on my forearm which continued to sting as I trudged into the corner and slumped down, knees raised, head lowered.  God, what had become of me!!  I almost wanted to pinch myself to make sure this wasn’t a dream, but of course I already knew the truth.  Like it or not, I was here.

I would have stayed right there, huddled up in that corner all day long if I could.  But Mrs. Walker made sure that I didn’t.  “Jimmy, dear, I know you’re shy around strangers, but you should go out and meet some new friends.”  She bent down and laid her hand on my arm softly.

“No, I don’t want to” I replied petulantly, my head still buried in my knees.  I heard her walk away and was pleasantly surprised that she wasn’t going to press the issue.

But I soon found out that I was wrong.  She returned and told me, “I want you to meet Susie here.”

I picked my head up just enough to glance out and see a girl, about my size, standing beside Mrs. Walkers’ huge legs.  But I quickly dropped my head back down and retorted, “Just go away.”  I absolutely wanted to avoid contact with these children whenever possible.

But Mrs. Walker insisted, “She just wants someone to play with, Jimmy.  You should join her.”  I didn’t budge.  “Come on, Jimmy,” she said, growing impatient.  I shook my head no.  “Would you like me to tell your mother you weren’t getting along with others?”

I picked my head up instantly.  She had said the one thing that would make me change my mind.  “I ... I’ll play,” I said reluctantly, rising to my feet.

“That’s more like it.  You two have fun!”  Mrs. Walker turned and left me with this Susie girl.

She was about my height, maybe even a smidge taller, and had fair skin, freckly cheeks, and red hair done up in pigtails.  I would normally have considered her a cute little girl, except that the ‘cute’ connotation kind of breaks down when she’s every bit as big as you.

“I’m Susie,” she told me with a high-pitched girly voice.

“Uh … I’m Jimmy,” I replied, downtrodden.

“Want to be friends?” she asked innocently.  Ah, the good old days, when all you needed was a simple introduction and you were instant friends.

“OK,” I sighed.

“I am seven years old and in the second grade,” she announced proudly.

I grimaced, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation.  But I knew I had to try to blend in, lest I be punished tonight.  “I’m eight.”

“Let’s play Barbies!” she chirped.  Grabbing my hand, she bounded and skipped to her collection of dolls on the floor nearby.  You’ve GOT to be kidding me.  But against every fiber of my being, I sat down with her and watched as she picked up a doll.

“Her name is Sarah.  What should we dress her with?” she asked, pointing to several outfits on the floor.

I was getting choked up from the humiliation of playing Barbies with a 7-year-old.  “C’mon, which one?” she repeated.  I pointed to an outfit and Susie happily dressed the doll.  Then she handed me another doll.  “Her name is Tanya.  You should put her clothes on this time.”

I just wanted this day to END!  I couldn’t go on like this.  But I managed to contain my emotions for now as I picked up an outfit and put it on ‘Tanya.’

Susie then brought over a Barbie-sized car and walked her doll up to it, then pretended that Sarah opened the door as Susie set her inside the car.  “Let’s go to the mall, Tanya!” Susie said, play acting Sarah’s voice.

I held back my tears as I clumsily brought Tanya over and dropped her into the car, not really giving a crap if it looked realistic or not.  “That’s not how Tanya walks!” Susie exclaimed, perturbed by my lack of effort.  But she continued the little skit, making ‘vroom vroom’ noises as our two dolls supposedly drove to the mall.

We ‘got out’ and Sarah, via Susie, said, “Where should we go first, Tanya?”

The lump in my throat made it extremely difficult to speak, so I just sat there.  “Come on, Tanya, where should we go?”  Susie was getting irritated.

I managed to mumble, almost incoherently, “JCPenney’s.”

“Sounds fabulous, dear!  Let’s go!”  Our dolls ‘held hands’ as they walked along towards the store.

“Hey, is that Brad?” Sarah asked, as Susie brought over a Ken doll.  “Here, you should be Brad, too,” Susie told me, handing me the new doll.  She waited expectantly for Brad to say something, but, well, he really didn’t feel like talking at this time.

“You’re supposed to say something!”  She became ever more upset with my lack of performance.  “Come on!  You’re no fun.”

I started to choke out a greeting, but suddenly I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer.  Dropping the dolls, I blurted out, “I’m not playing anymore!”  I scampered back to my corner and hid my head as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

But Susie immediately went to Mrs. Walker and tattled on me.  Soon the two of them were standing in front of me again.  “Susie tells me you are refusing to play with her.  I’m awfully disappointed in you, Jimmy.”

“I don’t want to play dolls with Susie!” I whined through my sobs.

Susie was apparently agitated by this.  “Well, you’re a – a – a big meanie!”  She stomped off.

Mrs. Walker lowered herself to the ground in front of me and told me, “You need to learn to get along with other kids, Jimmy.  Can’t you tell that Susie really likes you?  I want you to take a few minutes to calm down, then you need to go apologize to Susie.”  I didn’t respond as another wave of tears came on.  She stood and walked away, leaving me to wallow in my misery.

After several minutes, I heard her huge feet step up to me as her hand shook my shoulder.  “OK, Jimmy.  Up!”  I complied, and she led me back to where Susie was sitting, playing with her dolls as if nothing had happened.

“Well, Jimmy?” Mrs. Walker said expectantly, nudging me toward Susie.

I wiped my eyes and cleared my throat, then summoned the courage to say, “I’m sorry for not playing with you, Susie.”

Susie just shrugged, already over it.  Then Mrs. Walker put her hand on my shoulder and asked Susie, “Would you like Jimmy to play with you some more?”

“Sure,” she replied offhandedly.  Shit.  I was not planning to keep playing with her!

“Well, Jimmy, are you willing to play with her now?”  She squeezed my shoulder firmly but not quite painfully, just enough so that I got the message.

I hung my head in defeat.  “OK,” I sighed.

“Good boy,” Mrs. Walker replied.  She waited until I got down and picked up a doll, and only then did she turned and walked away.

I spent what could very well have been one of the most excruciating 30 minutes of my life (it was right up there with some of my other experiences in the past couple weeks, at least) playing Barbies with this 7-year-old girl.  But this was a new kind of hell; not one of physical pain or domination, but one of utter degradation.  I did my best to play along, trying to keep Susie happy enough that she wouldn’t call Mrs. Walker back.  Speaking of Mrs. Walker, I couldn’t help but look up from time to time and notice that she was keeping an especially close eye on me as she surveyed the room.

Finally, I was saved by an announcement from one of the supervisors.  “It’s 10:00!  Would you kids like to see a movie!?”  There was a rousing chorus of cheers from my fellow children.  “Give a cheer if you would rather see Finding Nemo …”—another cheer, “… or Toy Story 3”—an even louder cheer.  “OK, Toy Story it is.  Come sit around the TV.”

A mad dash ensued, as every kid in sight suddenly rushed towards the center of the room.  Several kids bumped into me inadvertently, and I found there blows surprisingly painful.  Normally I would hardly feel it when a kid ran into my legs, but at my new height it became a rather serious safety concern.  After the herd of oversized children had passed, I slowly got up and rubbed my arm, knowing there would be a bruise there tomorrow.  I reflected that not only was I their size now, but at my age I was much less resilient than they were.  I would have to be careful.

Despite being jostled about, I was (relatively speaking) very much looking forward to the movie, or at least, looking forward to the 90 minutes of peace it would bring, without having to play with dolls or talk with kids.  I came over and sat behind them all, being the last one there.  As the movie started, I had a hard time seeing the screen around the tall bodies and large heads in front of me.  I used to be the one who blocked other people’s vision in theatres.  Oh how the tables had turned.  But I found a good angle and settled in as the movie began.

It was far and away the high point of the day.  It was nice and relaxing, and surprisingly I actually did enjoy Toy Story 3; it was actually bearable for an adult to watch.  But, all too soon, it was over and I was forced back to the harsh reality of my situation.

Susie came up to me.  “Want to play on the teeter-totter?”

I saw Mrs. Walker standing across the room, and I knew it would be wise for me to play along and keep Susie happy.  Besides, I would much rather go outside and use the equipment then play with God-damned Barbie dolls.  “Sure,” I replied.

She took my hand again, like we were best friends, and ran out the sliding door to the teeter-totter.  As we got on and started swaying up and down, I was dismayed but not really surprised to find that we weighed the same.  I indulged her for another half hour or so as we moved on to the swings then the swinging horse and then the slide.  At one point I even caught myself smiling as I went down the slide, bringing back memories of when I was a kid.  But I immediately sobered up as I realized that, for all intents and purposes, I WAS a kid again, at least in the eyes of everyone who knew me, except perhaps Amy (but only perhaps).

The bell rang for lunch, and we all scampered inside.  The food wasn’t great, but I couldn’t complain. After lunch, I ambled about a bit, clandestinely inspecting the outside fence for any weaknesses.  If only I could sneak out, I could find my way to the doctor’s house, where I would wait all night if I had to.  But, sure enough, being a day care, they would never allow any chance of us little kids sneaking out into the big, scary world outside, I thought sarcastically.

I went up to a supervisor–avoiding Mrs. Walker for now–and told her I had to pee.  I actually did have to, but I also wanted to scope out a potential escape route.  She led me by the hand through the side gate and up to the boys’ room.  I snuck a glance sideways and saw a side exit to the building --which was no doubt why they installed that second gate.  But the supervisor wasn’t born yesterday, and she stood watch by the bathroom door as I went inside and did my business.  Once I was done, I was led through the gate back into the first circle of hell.

To my relief, I saw that Susie had found another playing partner, leaving me off the hook, at least for now.  I looked around a bit, and then my eyes landed on a welcome sight: a Nintendo 64 plugged into a TV in the corner.  Sure, the N64 was outdated by some 15 years at this point, but you couldn’t blame them for not putting a more expensive piece of hardware out for kids to break.  And it sure as hell beat playing with dolls or LEGOs or anything else here.

I made my way over and sat off a ways as I watched two boys duking it out in Mario Kart.  Even being the old geezer I was, I had played my fair share of video games in the past, and I happened to be pretty good at Mario Kart, having played it with some work buddies as a nice way to relax after work.

The two boys looked pretty big, possibly bigger than me, but it was hard to tell from here.  One boy was fairly quiet, but the other one was rather loud and obnoxious.  He won all three races I saw, and didn’t mind bragging about it, rubbing it in the other kid’s face.  I pictured my old self going over there and picking him up roughly and scaring the little shit to teach him a lesson.  But now, I wasn’t so sure I could even win a fight with him …

After the last race, the quiet boy sulked away, with the annoying bully calling “Chicken!” after him.  But, without anyone left to play with, or rather, whoop up on, the bully dropped the controller and walked away.

After he was a good distance away, I moved in and grabbed the controller.  I was just about to start my race when I felt a shoe jabbing into my side.  “I was playing that,” a voice said meanly.  I turned my gaze upward and saw that same bully, returning for more fun.

“It’s my turn,” I said defiantly, not wanting to show any sign of weakness.

“Give it to me!”  He reached over my shoulder for the controller, but I held it away from him.  In the process, though, I took a glimpse at his hands and got the unshakeable impression that they were significantly bigger than mine.

 “You have to beat me first,” I challenged, wagering that I was better than him, plus I was eager to put him in his place in any way I could.

He accepted the challenge, saying, “Ha!  I’m gonna crush you!”  He snatched the other controller as I set up a two-player race.

I beat him handily; after all, he was just a stupid little kid.  I noticed that he didn’t have nearly as much to say as he did when he was beating that other kid.  After a couple more defeats, he threw down the controller in frustration and spat, “You got lucky!” as he stomped off.

“Giving up already?” I jeered.  Luck, my ass.  I sure taught him a lesson, that he wasn’t as tough as he acted.

After a few more races, I saw a couple kids move up and sit beside me.  They seemed nice, not like that other brat.  Having played enough now, I was willing to share.  “Here you go, you can have your turn now,” I said graciously, handing them the controllers.  I smiled at myself as I stood and walked away, regaining some sense of dignity and maturity, feelings that I had been sorely lacking of late.

My good mood continued as I stepped outside and looked out at the kids playing.  Though I may be no bigger than them physically, I felt pride in knowing I was still an adult in mind and spirit.

But in my blissful reverie I didn’t notice the hulking form coming at me.  Before I could react, I felt a heavy arm wrap around my shoulder, and I thought I recognized the hand as my assaulter pressed his weight down onto me.

“Well, well, look who it is,” said a familiar voice.  I turned my head and looked up at the face of the boy I had just beaten in Mario Kart.  Holy crap, I hadn’t realized just how tall he was, and big too!  He was certainly one of the oldest kids here, and probably big for his age as well, standing head and shoulders above my own body which seemed pathetically puny by comparison.  A look of shock and dread crossed my face as I felt myself being moved forward against my will.

I was too startled to yell out as he steered me around a corner and into a small, shady recess in the side of the building.  No doubt, this wasn’t the first time he had brought someone here and bullied them.

He shoved me hard into the brick wall behind me.  “Ow!” I exclaimed, holding the back of my head in pain.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he sneered, pushing me into a corner from which there was no escape.  My knees began to buckle and my head was shaking in fear as I was now completely at the mercy of this towering brute.  Always the biggest kid in my class, I had the good fortune of never, ever being bullied growing up.  But now, at the age of 41, I was experiencing for the first time the shame and horror delivered at the hands of an elementary-school bully.

“No one beats me at Nintendo and gets away with it!  Say you’re sorry.”  I shook my head nervously.  In response, he grabbed me around the neck with one huge arm, and with the other arm he delivered a hellishly painful noogie.  He grinded his knuckles so hard into the top of my head that I had no choice but to squeal, “I’m sorry!”

He let my head go, shoving me back against the wall and taunting me with insults like “Wimp!” and “I’ve seen girls stronger than you!” (yeah, Kyra, for one, I thought to myself).  I could do nothing but just sit there and take it as he continued to shove me around.

Eventually, he said, “Got any money on you?”  I shook my head no, holding back tears as best I could.  “I don’t believe you,” he replied, and proceeded to raid my pockets for loose change.  Fortunately I didn’t have anything in my pockets, except – OH SHIT!

“What do we have here?” he said, pulling out the little slip of paper that had the doctor’s address on it.

Oh God, no!  I couldn’t lose that!  I stupidly neglected to memorize his address, and there was no way Kyra would let me check my email again in the foreseeable future.  My hopes of stopping my shrinking would be shattered without that scrap of paper.  I made a desperate lunge for the paper, but the bully held it away from me.  “Give it back!” I shrieked.

“Why should I?” he snorted, pinning my body with one arm while holding the paper out of my reach with the other.  He casually turned his head and read the contents of the paper.  “It’s just a stupid address!” he exclaimed derisively.  “What’s the big deal?”

Somehow, I had to reason with him, convince him that this was of the utmost importance.  “I need it!  I have to get to that house today!  If I don’t, then I’ll just keep– … I mean, I’ll be in really really big trouble if I can’t find it!  Pleaaassse,” I begged.

“Like I care,” he spat.  But just then a stern adult voice called out, “What’s going on over here?”  As we both turned to look, Mrs. Walker appeared in front of us.  “Sean, are you being a bully again?” she asked sharply.

“No, ma’am, of course not!” he said, acting innocent.  “Me and my little buddy here were just having a little chat.  Right, buddy?”  He turned to me and stared threateningly.

But he no longer had any power over me, now that a grown-up had arrived.  “He was trying to beat me up!  And he stole a paper from me, and I need it back.”

“Let me see it,” she commanded, and Sean had to comply.  Her brow furrowed as she read the paper, and she asked me, “Whose address is this?”

“Oh, uh … it’s just … someone I know.  But I really need to see them!”  I didn’t want to reveal whose address it was, in the chance that Mrs. Walker would report to Kyra.

Mrs. Walker frowned at me suspiciously but said, “Well, OK, I suppose you may have it back.”  I looked into her eyes with deep gladness as reached for the paper on her outstretched hand.

But in a flash, Sean snatched the paper up, and with a vengeful cry of “This is for ratting me out, you little turd” he crumpled it up, tossed it into his mouth, and swallowed.  “Hahahaha!” he laughed victoriously.

Mrs. Walker spun him around and pried his mouth open, but the paper was gone.  “Nooooooo!!!” I cried.  She dragged Sean away by the ear and reprimanded him sharply, but meanwhile I collapsed in a bawling heap of despair.  I was ruined!  I would shrink and shrink and shrink, until Kyra saw fit to stop it.  How long would she wait – until I was the size of a newborn?  Until I was a foot tall?  Until I simply vanished into nothingness!???

I lay there crumpled up, sobbing steadily until Mrs. Walker returned.  “There, there, Jimmy,” she soothed, rubbing her hand across my back.  “Everything will be just fine.  I know you don’t want to tell me what the address was, but I’ll tell your mother about it this afternoon and I’m sure she can give you the address again.”

My sobs ceased as I looked up anxiously.  “No, please don’t tell her!”

“Why not?” she asked quizzically.

“I just … I just don’t want her to know about it.”

“OK, Jimmy, I understand,” she said gently.  “Come along, naptime has just started and that will be just what you need right now.”

She started to pick me up off the ground, intending to carry me.  “I can do it,” I said meekly.  She helped me up and tenderly walked me inside, where the lights were out and all the kids were laying on blankets for their afternoon nap.  Mrs. Walker guided me to an unused blanket and I gratefully collapsed onto it and soon fell into an uneasy doze.