A Haughty Holiday

Bobby was such a troublemaker. His parents loved him with all their heart, but they grew so tired of his antics year after year, they were a younger couple but not young enough to manage such a disrespectful kid. This Christmas though, his behavior went over the top. No one knew why. Not even his parents did. “If you do not behave Santa will give you coal” his dad told him. “That is right” his mother concurred. “Santa” Bobby laughed off, “I don’t believe in Santa!” Bobby was just twelve, but he knew Santa did not exist from day one.

“Please. I am old enough to know better.” His father out of nowhere said, “Bobby, you function as if you are still one! Grow up!” It is not as if his parents shouted like that. His dad exasperatedly said. “John!” His wife yelled at him. “He is still a kid.” “Please Jane, he needs to learn to behave properly. This is why the other kids and even teachers laugh at him." The dad rebutted. “I do not even care” Bobby laughed, and he did not, in fact he did not care what anyone thought not even his own parents. Bobby often got in trouble with school, but no one took him seriously to even care. He was the class clown, but no one thought he was funny, at least not in an effective way.

“Well, it is Christmas eve, and we are going to church, please, please behave yourself tonight” his mother implored. “Whatever” Bobby muttered. Of course, the night did not go well. Bobby managed to break the Jesus Christ in the manager set, the worst part his parents were involved with that church and the set was theirs. That ticked off everyone, his parents took him home and felt extremely hopeless. “We love you, Bobby, we always will, but you cannot keep acting this way” his mom said exasperatingly but softly. “You are infantile” Bobby’s dad added, “You are not a baby.” “But you are so pampered and spoiled” Bobby’s mom added trying to hold him in attempt Bobby would listen and see the error of his bad manners. She hugged him and softly gave him kisses, even his dad gave him a little affection but not too much, “We do not mind coddling you, we always will, we will always love you baby, once our baby always our baby, but you cannot act so ungrateful. You need to start doing things for yourself for a change. We will not always be around to teach you right from wrong.” That night though would change everything, but it was not his mother who would set everything in motion.

That late night, Bobby woke up to use the restroom, the downstairs one, and he saw Santa Claus. “Santa” he said “You are real? Are those presents for me?” “No, they are for your parents, goodness knows they suffer enough.” Santa answered him. “What is that supposed to mean?” Bobby answered back feeling a little insulted. “We shall only see, but here, here is a lollipop at least, just for suckers. A sucker for a sucker if you will.” Bobby just laughed that off and Santa went about his way. “Maybe their new gift will be a baby” Santa joke and continued, “I will be back, believe me.” Santa left sight, as Bobby just continued chucking to himself, “O-k whatever you say Santa.”

When Bobby woke up, he was feeling a little different. He was ten years old. His parents went into his room telling him, “Merry Christmas honey. We are still mad about last night, but it is still Christmas, come on. Let us go downstairs.” Bobby got out of his bed and looked at his mirror. He was … different. He was not sick, simply different. “Looking a little rejuvenated today, aren’t we partner?” His father asked. Bobby’s mother did not recognize the difference, once your baby, always your baby, right? She just put her arms around her son and led him downstairs. “Listen kiddo” his mom told him, “Though it is Christmas Bobby we still must punish you. You cannot go anywhere this week. Mom and Dad still need to work, but no friends can come over. (To herself, lowly) Not that you have any.” She exasperated wishing her kid son would socialize, for his own good, at least try to. He did not ever make friends, at least not a good one.

That night, Bobby went back to bed, not feeling good, not feeling bad, just annoyed he was, punished just for having fun. The next day, Bobby looked more different, he was now eight years old. This time his mom walked in with his breakfast and dropped the food. “Bobby!” She shrieked. His dad barged in and said, “Son, you look more different today than you did today.” Bobby did not know what they were talking about, but he looked in his mirror and he was different. “We need to call the doctor” his overprotective mother said. “Do you have a fever, son?” His just as overprotective father asked. He felt his forehead, “You do not feel hot.” They checked his temperature, normal. “He does not need to go if he is not feeling ill” his father assured his mother. “We need to go out, just stay in bed, alright?” His mother ordered him. Not leaving him with any other options.

That night, the three ate dinner, no problems. Bobby woke up the next day, now six years old, same old dilemma as the day before. “We need to take him to the doctor?” His mother protested again. She screamed, “Our son looks much younger than he did the day before! He looks six John, six!” Her husband replied, “Honey, what will we tell him, or his wife?” The wife of the doctor was a doctor herself, and the two doctors were good friends with them. They did not know what to do, knew no one would believe them and it is not as if they were known liars, but again they had to leave, and he had to stay home. Bobby was not feeling ill at all, mysteriously, just completely … unsure.

The next day, nearing New Year’s, Bobby was … four years old. His parents could not believe it. His father thought impulsively and asked a random question. “Is our son by fact de-aging, how do we know that is even Bobby? He could be someone else.” “What?” His mother sputtered not believing what her husband just said, but it did make sense at least a little. “Is that you Bobby or are you someone else?” Bobby was still Bobby, but he was starting to understand what was happening and fabricated a lie, “I – I am not Bobby. I am a friend. He had to step out of the house for a moment, I threw things at his window to get his attention. I am a new neighbor, Javelin.” “Unbreakable things we hope” John softly laughed. “Jonathan” his wife rebuked him as if she were talking to a kid. His father interrupted, “Weird, we usually know when new neighbors move in, we are friends with everyone here. Our children … not so much.” “If you say you are a friend, and you do not sound as if you are lying to us, son (yes, his father was that type of guy), then we should just believe you.” “Where is our little Bobby though?” Bobby’s mother asked in an overly caring tone. “Where is our son?” “He just walked into the woods; I told him not to. I tried searching for him but could not find him” Javelin lightly lied. Bobby’s parents felt deeply sad but saw no hope. “We lost our little boy” Bobby’s mother started crying. Her husband comforted her. “A friend of our son’s is a friend of ours, you can stay if you want” Bobby’s father told the mysterious new boy. “Alright, sir” Javelin said. Bobby would not ever say “sir” or “madam” to his parents, but he did not want anything to start.

The next day, Bobby was now one, one! Bobby’s parents were beyond any type of belief that they had to leave work. They were still in their robes. Bobby’s mother came in and shrieked. “Who is this toddler? A toddler?” Her husband barged in. “A baby?” He said not being able to believe anything. “Maybe Javelin had a brother?” The husband suggested. “We need to go see the doctor!” The mother replied, demanding more than ever. “It is time!” “I guess … alright.” Her husband replied. “No, now” his wife told him. They took the two-year-old to the doctor, not being able to think of anything else. They sat in the waiting room and did not know what to tell the doctor. They urged each other for a sort of rationalization to tell the doctor but decided to go home instead. They coddled the chubby baby, changed his diapers, and petted his small amount of walnut colored hair. “John, wait” Jane said. “It is New Year’s Eve, our neighbors asked us to join them for dinner. We cannot say no, “But … we cannot bring him with us. He seems too stressed.” “We will get a babysitter” John assured her. They called a man, sounding a bit familiar but was a stranger like no other. He said yes. That night, Bobby was home alone. Bobby did not know what to comprehend anymore if anything at all. He was two years old. He was a toddler, a toddler. He was a miniature sized kid, almost hairless though he still had a small portion of hair left. He was also in diapers and sucking on pacifiers and bottles, oh how much of life was precious now. Bobby had an inner fear that he would de-age even further or stay like that forever.

The man arrived with his wife. “The mistress” the man told the parents, “Hope you do not mind.” Of course, the wife being none other than Mrs. Claus, but the Clauses keep it discreet. “Not at all” John said. “Good” Jane said, “You just got here.” “We do not know what Junior is like, “But he is upstairs. Please take safe care of him, please.” Bobby’s parents were not in the mood to go out, not knowing what happened to their own baby boy, not even knowing who the new child was, was he a relative of Javelin, or was he, well, Bobby. They were beyond any sort of sense, but they had to keep plans and make do. John put Jane’s coat on her, put his gloves on, and walked to the car. “Honey, come on” he softly told her. “Are those new diapers?” John asked the man. “Yes, he said, they are Lumpies, called that for an odd reason if any at all, but these are Lumpies Extreme.” “Good, given how much children that young eat, I am sure he will need boxes, boxes, and boxes of diapers.” The father said. “Better to go with that just to be safe, the more the merrier, right? At least, not for his sake.” The mother added almost unconcerned about the entire discussion. The parents bid him goodbye, said nothing else and exited the door.

Santa waited a while. He did not hear any fuss. The time was setting between New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. The mysterious man and his wife walked up to the bedroom and saw Bobby on his back in his crib, now awake. He revealed himself as Santa Claus, picked up the now five months old baby, cradling him, “Told you I would be back, and your parents would get a new baby” Santa derided, “Boy, are you heavy (exasperates), and gross, you stink, you need to be changed.” Santa changed him into a new giant sized, exposing diaper, disposable but safety pinned for some odd reason, placed a jester’s cap with two clown pompoms on his head, put a red clown nose on him, and even placed big clown shoes on his feet, and for no reason at all obese arm wings. Santa even fastened a buttoned undershirt on him and set him up gently while thoughtfully putting a lollipop into his mouth. You know just to make him be calm, or rather just quiet.

“He is thin.” Mrs. Claus told her husband. “Very. We need to fatten him up.” “Wait” Santa assured her. In a fast moment, the lollipop turned into a pacifier giving Bobby all sorts of clownish colors (even his hair). Bobby was … surprisingly, swelling up. He was a balloon. The couple just laughed, softly but noticeably. His arms rose higher and higher. “I feel funny!” Bobby said though his words just came out as incoherent baby talk as his safety pin flew off. Santa understood though, and said, “You are funny! You look and smell funny too! Thankfully though you have a fresh nappy.” Santa knocked on his diaper, having him almost tip over, Bobby wanted to swat his hands at Santa for even doing that, but he could not even move his arms. Mrs. Claus prodded Bobby’s bloated belly and pinched his chubby cheeks. Both as grandparents would react to their grandchildren. Bobby just stood there, fish eyed, arms fully out, getting fatter and fatter.

After everything stopped. Unaware of anything but feeling utterly humiliated and helpless, and being too big, round, and puffy to go anywhere. Bobby saw twelve elves surrounding him. They start singing to him, dancing around him the same way the Oompa Loompas did to Violet Beauregarde in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, the vocals, melody all sounded the same, but with applied lyrics and a little calliope sounding carnival music, as Bobby waddled a bit though quite awkwardly. Yes, Bobby was dumbstruck, and Santa wanted him to know it – literally. As Bobby awkwardly halted, the elves started throwing their hands out at him, with hands all over his enormous, rotund, bloated body, he flapped his hands (rapidly and stupidly) trying to “shoo” them, but of course having no luck whatsoever. "You stop that now silly boy." Mrs. Claus reprimanded him not caring how uncomfortable he felt. The lyrics went as followed, as the elves begun setting him down:

“Munchkin Devilkin kitschy kin.
We have a great puzzle for you so listen in.
Munchkin Devilkin kitschy key.
You are very unwise, so listen to me.
You are a pampered and spoiled infantile.
Treated like an irresponsible imbecile.
Sucking pacifiers and sporting diapers,
No wonder people have such gripers.
You are a clown, a joker, what a brat.
You are so distended, colossal, and fat.
You are such a joke.
To your parents their greatest yoke.
How you live your life is decadent.
The way your age represents you is so evident.
Acting like nippers, you will not go far.
You will not live in happiness, it is true.
Be like us, the Munchkin Devil kitschy kin.
Otherwise, everyone will always have derision.”

The elves rolled him away back to their workshop. His parents later came home not being able to find this child now, more devastated than ever. The death went as a tragic loss despite Bobby’s infamy in the neighborhood, and the parents in the following few days were left with nothing but a strange gift on their porch. A doll. An unchangeable, indestructible, dishonorable doll who looked just like their own baby boy, dressed, and decorated in the same exact way Bobby was before he disappeared, not being able to move but still think. “It looks like Bobby” the father lightly said with his mother gently in tears, he continued, “Maybe set it in our manager display.” “Of course, we cannot let others see it dressed like that, that will be blasphemous, just so disrespectful” the mother replied softly scoffing his discussion. “Of course, it will just be for us. We can get a new, more respectful looking infant for the manager. Of course.” The mom with much love embraces the doll, thinking of her own baby son, and said with affirmed decision, “Yes, we need to hang onto this … you know, as a reminder, and when we are gone, let it go down in our familial generations, after all – once a baby always our baby."