The afternoon sun streams through the windows, casting a warm glow across the living room. You’re sitting on the edge of the coffee table, flipping through your book, when your mother’s voice interrupts the quiet.
“Hey, sweetie!” she calls out, her voice dripping with enthusiasm. “I’ve got an idea! How about a little dance session? Just you and me!”
You freeze mid-page turn, your heart sinking. Dancing with her? Her idea of dancing usually involves wild, carefree movements that take up the entire room. And with her massive, powerful body, that means one wrong step could flatten you like a pancake.
“Uh… I don’t know, Mom,” you say hesitantly, trying to think of an excuse. “I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Oh, nonsense!” she exclaims, already swaying her hips to some imaginary beat. “You’ve been sitting there all day. You need to move that tiny body of yours!”
You cringe at the word tiny. It’s not like you chose to be this size, but she always manages to remind you, intentionally or not. Before you can protest further, she’s already striding over, her bare feet thudding against the floor with each step. The vibrations rattle your book, and you grip it tightly to keep it from slipping.
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” she says, bending down to scoop you up. Her fingers envelop your entire body, lifting you into the air like you weigh nothing. “I’ll go easy on you, promise!”
Before you can respond, she sets you down on the floor and starts moving to her own rhythm. Her hips sway, her arms wave, and her feet stomp in a chaotic yet somehow graceful pattern. You barely have time to react as her enormous foot comes down right where you were standing a second ago. You dive to the side, narrowly avoiding being crushed.
“Mom, watch where you’re stepping!” you yelp, scrambling to your feet.
“Oops! Sorry, sweetie!” she giggles, not missing a beat. She spins around, her voluminous dress billowing out, and you have to duck to avoid being smacked by the fabric. “You just need to keep up with me!”
You’re not sure if she’s teasing or genuinely oblivious to the danger she poses. Either way, you’re too focused on survival to care. Her feet seem to be everywhere at once, each step a potential disaster. You dart left, then right, then back again, your tiny body working overtime to stay out of harm’s way.
“That’s it!” she cheers, clearly enjoying herself. “You’re like a little mouse trying to avoid the cat!”
The comparison stings, but you don’t have time to dwell on it. Her foot comes down again, and you barely manage to roll out of the way. The floor shakes with the impact, and you can’t help but marvel at her sheer power. It’s both terrifying and awe-inspiring. How does she not realize how big she is? you wonder, though you already know the answer. She’s just… her.
“Mom, seriously, can we slow it down a bit?” you plead, your breath coming in short gasps.
“Slow it down? Where’s the fun in that?” she says, spinning around again. This time, her ass comes perilously close to knocking you over. You stumble backward, your heart racing. “Come on, try to keep up!”
She kicks her leg out in a playful move, and you have to leap to the side to avoid being hit. Your face flushes with humiliation as you realize how ridiculous this must look. Here you are, a full-grown man, hopping around like a flea to avoid being squished by your own mother. And she’s not even trying to hurt you—she’s just… dancing.
“You’re doing great, sweetie!” she says, her voice full of encouragement. “Just keep moving! It’s like a game!”
A game? You’re not sure if you should laugh or cry. But before you can decide, she takes a particularly energetic step, her foot slamming down just inches from you. The force of it sends you tumbling backward, and you land flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Oops! Did I get you?” she asks, looking down at you with a mix of amusement and concern. Her face fills your entire field of vision, her lips curving into a sheepish smile. “You okay, tiny?”
You groan, not just from the fall but from the way she calls you tiny. “I’m fine, Mom,” you mutter, sitting up slowly. “But I think I’m done dancing for today.”
“Aw, come on!” she says, reaching down to pick you up. Her fingers wrap around your torso, lifting you effortlessly. “We’re just getting started!”
She holds you at eye level, her gaze soft but commanding. “You know, you’re braver than you think, sweetie. Most people wouldn’t even try to keep up with me.”
You don’t know whether to feel flattered or patronized. “Thanks, Mom,” you say, though it comes out more sarcastic than you intended.
She chuckles, setting you down gently this time. “All right, all right. I’ll take it easy. But you’re not getting out of this that easily.”
She starts dancing again, this time with slower, more deliberate movements. You still have to dodge her feet, but at least now it’s manageable. As you move with her, trying to sync your steps with hers, you can’t help but notice the way her body commands the room. Her energy is infectious, and despite everything, you find yourself smiling a little.
“See? This isn’t so bad, is it?” she says, her voice warm.
“I guess not,” you admit, though you’re still on high alert. “But can we maybe… not call me tiny while we’re doing this?”
She laughs, a rich, hearty sound that fills the room. “Okay, okay. No more ‘tiny.’ But only because you’re giving this your all!”
As the dance continues, you can’t help but feel a strange mix of emotions—humiliation, awe, and even a tiny shred of pride. She’s larger than life in every sense, and even though it’s exhausting trying to keep up with her, there’s something oddly exhilarating about it too.
Her foot comes down again, and this time, you’re ready. You sidestep it with ease, surprising even yourself. “See? You’re getting the hang of it!” she says, her eyes lighting up.
“Maybe I am,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But don’t get too cocky, Mom. I’m still the one trying not to get squished here.”
She bursts out laughing, her movements becoming even more exaggerated. “Oh, sweetie, you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to keep up with me!” she teases, her feet thudding against the floor rhythmically. “Come on, let’s see what you’ve got!”
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you prepare to keep pace with her. Her energy is electric, and despite the constant threat of being crushed, you can’t help but get swept up in it. The room seems to shrink around her, and for a moment, you forget just how small you really are.
“All right, Mom,” you say, a hint of determination in your voice. “Let’s dance!”
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