Chapter #2No Respect, Even At Home by: chaos   When Bobby got off the school bus all he felt was annoyed and tired. Today had not been good. A lot of his days were not good, but today stood out. The teacher hadn’t been able to see him during homeroom, so he got marked absent. He had nearly been sat on, twice. He had gotten picked last for baseball and then made honorary water boy to further his humiliation. And a girl he had tried to talk to had responded by asking him if he was lost and if he knew where his mommy was. None of these things were new for Bobby, being treated as a child or not seen came with being small. Bobby was only three feet, six inches tall, the smallest kid in the eighth grade, the smallest kid in his high school, smaller then most of the kids in elementary school. He had short black hair, a scrawny body and a cherubic face that made him look like a baby to most people.
Being small for his age wasn’t really the problem, he could get used to being weaker and needing to stand on a chair to reach high objects. What he couldn’t stand was that nearly everyone he knew treated him like a baby. Teachers, classmates, friends, even his own mother treated him like he was still in diapers. It was getting unbearable and he didn’t know how much more he could stand.
“I’m home!” He called out as he walked through his front door. He wanted to think his bad day was over, but it was only getting started. His mom, Rose, was one of the most caring woman in the world and Bobby’s sole parent since his dad died. She was 37 years old and 5’11, an amazon to Bobby. He knew that a lot of his classmates thought she was hot, much to his horror and disgust. She had curly, long dark hair, big brown eyes and a round, young face, similar to his own cherubic features. She had a little bit of a thick body, nothing too bad, but a few of her curves were bigger on her then on most other women. Her biggest curves were the pair of Double D’s she had on her chest. Bobby knew them well because he was smothered in-between them regularly when she tried to hug him or thought he looked tired and needed to be carried. That was the thing about his mom; she was caring, too caring in his opinion.
“My little baby! Were you safe on the bus? I should have picked you up from school, like I always used to. I’m so sorry. Do you need to eat or take a nap?” His mom came racing towards him, wearing a dark long-sleeved blouse with grey knee high dress. She tried to sweep him into her arms, but Bobby backed away, not wanting to be forced against his mom’s big chest again. Frowning at her sons aversion to being held, she slowly started to smile again as she looked at her baby boys cute little face. “I made you some soup for an afterschool snack. If you’re too tired from school, I can spoon-feed you?”
Bobby just looked at his mom in disbelief, her mothering reaching unbelievable depths. Watching him grow up had been hard for her as when he was younger they were closer and she felt more loved by him. Wishing to hold onto that early love they had, she’s treated her son like an infant. The facts that he was so short both pleased her and made her feel guilty because his size made pampering him like a baby easier. Bobby knew why she did it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it or accept it. Dealing with her overprotective, babying attitude was such a huge hassle for Bobby; he thought it would drive him crazy one day.
“No thank you,” he told her bluntly. Rose looked disappointed for a second, but quickly she covered her mouth as she began giggling. Bobby just looked at her oddly, until he realized why she was laughing; he was sucking on his thumb. It was an involuntary reaction he got when he was scared, frustrated or angry. He popped his thumb out of his mouth, saliva coating the tip of his thumb. Furiously wiping it against his shirt, he stormed off, more humiliated then ever. No one was ever going to take him seriously if he kept sucking his thumb like a baby.
“Bobby, are you sure I can’t get you anything?” Rose asked as her small son started heading to his room. She just wanted to be a good mother and hold onto her baby for a little bit longer, that wasn’t a bad thing.
“I’m not hungry,” Bobby argued and as if even his own body was against him, his stomach started growling. Once more feeling embarrassed, he looked down at his feet and muttered under his breath, “Maybe some soup will be nice.”
“I’ll warm it up for you,” she cheerily said and headed off to the kitchen. Sighing, Bobby headed to the dinning room for his snack, wondering how he was going to deal with his mom today. He sure as Hell wasn’t going to let her spoon-feed him, that was for sure. He went to the table and frowned when he found the book he usually sat on to reach the table missing from his seat. He had asked his mom to get a lower table, but she refused, saying that if he was having so much trouble getting high enough to eat she could get him a boaster seat. He honestly, did not think she was kidding.
“Mom, where’s the book I usual sit on?” He turned to his mother as she came in, a steaming bowl of soup in one hand and a spoon in another. “I’m not sure honey, I’ll look for it later. Right now, how about you sit on my knee to eat, like you did when you were little.”
Bobby’s initial response was to say no, to fight with his mother who would most likely be hurt that he didn’t want to be close to her and then go searching around the house for a book that was most likely put somewhere to high for him to reach. Too tired to fight it anymore and getting kind of hungry, he swallowed the tiny part of his pride he had left and nodded to his mom. It was kind of nice to see her smiling so brightly as he gave in, but it did nothing to make him feel better. She sat down and then reached for him, plucking him up just like she had when he was a little boy. Sitting on her knees, he focused on the soup in front of him and not her big, heaving breasts a few inches behind his head. All it would take is just to shift a little back and his head would be cushioned against his mom’s funbags, which was not very fun for him.
He ate quickly, feeling his mom eyes boring into the top of his head as she watched him sit on her lap with pure joy. She placed her had on his shoulder and lightly squeezed it, just enjoying the fact that her baby was so close to her. It was making Bobby really uncomfortable, so to get her to leave him be he put down his spoon. “Mom, why don’t you feed me? It’ll be like when I was younger and you used to spoon feed me peas and carrots.”
He could hear his mom taking a deep breath in excitement, loving the idea of getting to spoon-feed him again. Bobby just wanted her to stop touching him and getting to feed him was a good distraction. Besides, maybe if she got this out of her system, she’d stop mollycoddling him. He completely forgot that with his mom when you give her an inch she takes a mile.
“You look so adorable on my lap, like a cute, little baby that needs his mommy. I could just eat you up, yes I could, yes I could,” she said in a babyish voice as she started feeding Bobby. Ignoring it, Bobby tried to not let it get to him, but things were adding up. His frustration was growing, but it didn’t reach the boiling point until his mom took things one step too far.
“You know, you never sucked on your thumb when you had your binky. Whenever you got the urge to suck on anything you just popped that in your mouth and you were happy. I think I still have your old binky in my closet. You’ll look so adorable with it, ad then I can get your bib and some old diapers and you’ll look just like a baby. Won’t that just be the cutest, my little Bobby?”
“No! And stop calling me Bobby, my names Robert!” He cried out and jumped off his mom’s lap. Without looking back at the shocked and hurt look on his mom’s face, he ran off to his room. He slammed the door closed; well, more like closed it fast, he wasn’t strong enough to slam doors. His room was pretty bare except for his bed, a couple shelves full of old toys, and a chair that he could stand on to reach anything he wanted that was too high for him. He wanted to jump onto his bed and bury his head in his pillow, but he actually needed to lift himself up to get on top of his bed, just another irritation that came from being three and a half feet tall.
“My names Robert,” he softly complained as he felt close to crying. The name on the birth certificate read Robert Joseph Burris, but he can’t remember one person calling him that. He was Bobby to everyone, a little kids name that only made it hit home even harder that he would always be thought of as a child. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he was taller would everything be different or was he destined to be regarded as a baby no matter what he did. It made him so miserable, especially around the other sex. He might look like a young child, but he had gone through puberty, he thought about girls, he thought about all the things he wished he could do with them. He had never had a girlfriend, never even held hands with a girl unless they we’re leading him around or helping him cross the street because they thought he was a little boy. It seemed sometimes that the only way he could get close to a girl was if they were coddling him.
Depressed, he didn’t react when he heard someone knock on his door, at least not the first knock. After two more, he groaned loudly and threw his pillow at the door. “I said leave me alone!”
The door cracked open and the person knocking poked their head out.
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