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Done Adulting, Volume 1 (Now available on Amazon with a preview of Volume 2)


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First time posting, but felt like had too. Loving this story, cant wait to see how Jamie manages day care, feel like a big character event for him. 

 

Pacing of the story is great. It dosnt feel like your rushing to tell us what happens. I think that is keeping me reading more than any thing else. Easy to sink into the world and go along with it.

 

As a side I usually have not enjoyed this setting for stories. You changed my mind

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Dear Author_Alex,

there is a mini-mistake: the last chapter has not No. 22 but No. 21, Part 1.

                                     Sincerely yours

                                          Diddldum 

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47 minutes ago, diddldum said:

Dear Author_Alex,

there is a mini-mistake: the last chapter has not No. 22 but No. 21, Part 1.

                                     Sincerely yours

                                          Diddldum 

Thank you for pointing that out.

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25 minutes ago, YourFNF said:

Best big sister :D

Everybody should go say thank you their brothers and sisters and anyone else for being there for them. Doesn't even have to be your brother or sister.

The importance of remembering to do this was brought home to me recently through a friend's tragedy.

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I figured I'd post this shorter update now and keep writing, and maybe I'll post again before bedtime, which is at 11:30 tonight and not 4am like last Friday. Seriously - tell the nearest grown up on me if I'd up that late again. Took four days to recover.

________________________________

Chapter 21, Part 2

 

 

None of them slept very well, each for their own reasons. Back to work; back to school; way, way back to daycare, in Jamie’s case. And knowing they had to get up earlier than they normally did made falling asleep harder. Unfair is what that is: the sooner you need to get up, the more your body won’t cooperate in falling asleep. Everyone was a little groggy.

 

Becky was up first and got Jamie out of Amand’s bed. He was still asleep when she picked up him, and he woke as she was bringing him to her shoulder. He felt displaced and heavy, like he wasn’t ready for consciousness. He’d slept without pajamas as he did most night, and the sudden coolness out from under his blankets made him snuggle in closer to Becky for warmth. She’d already run a tub, and she managed to remove Jamie’s diaper and slip him into the water. The effort to strip him while she still held him woke up the rest of the way up, and he wasn’t too pleased about it. How much difference an hour of sleep makes.

 

This was a business bath. He was in, he was cleaned, he was dried, his hair was combed, his teeth were brushed, and he was on his way back to his bedroom. He did and didn’t want to talk. They’d already talked a lot, and there wasn’t more to discuss so much as a vague hope that talking, even awkwardly, would distract Jamie from the butterflies in his tummy.

 

Today was an Amanda day, meaning he’d get picked up by Amanda because she finished classes earlier than Becky got off work. On days where Becky was done first, she’d pick him up. Some days he might get picked up later if something came up, and Jamie would be told in advance.

 

He’d get delivered directly into Diane’s arms today. She owned Little Hearth, and she’d promised to stay with him until he was comfortable. Her staff would pay especially good attention to him for the first few days. There were no plans beyond that. He was going to have to wing it. Improvise! Adapt! Overcome! He remembered that motto from one of Clint Eastwood’s lesser known movies. Of course, he wasn’t invading Grenada. Daycare, he knew, would be a challenge of a different magnitude.

 

Becky took especially good care in getting Jamie into his first diaper of the day. She spent nearly as long rubbing cream into his bottom as she had rubbing shampoo into his scalp. She picked one of the cartoon diapers. I gotta watch some TV, he thought. Amanda came in bleary eyed but dressed, better dressed than most days. A first day of school outfit.

 

“You look pretty today,” Jamie said, craning his head around from his supine position.

 

“Aww, thanks, buddy. I’m going to go get breakfast started. Any requests?”

 

“Um … toast.”

 

“Mom?”

 

“Whatever you’re having. And thank you.”

 

A few minutes later, Becky and Jamie joined Amanda in the kitchen where she was making eggs and toast. Jamie had been back on any food he wanted for a while, but he was content with toast in the mornings. Amanda made it with butter, cinnamon, and sugar on it for him. He never even liked the small of eggs. He was interested in the shells, though, and wondered what kind of bird came out of an egg the size of his hand.

 

“Cute outfit, Jamie,” Amanda said from the stove. Becky had put him into shorts with snaps on the legs and a onesie with a bear on it. It was a little younger look than Jamie liked (by about 25 years), but Becky wanted him to look especially adorable and figured a onesie would be more comfortable if he played hard.

 

“Want a bottle with your toast,” Becky asked. Jamie nodded with a smile. It wouldn’t help him wake up, but there was never a time he didn’t want a bottle of the good stuff, nor would Becky turn down the chance to feed it to him. Most mornings, if he had a bottle, it was actually a sippy cup and he drank it himself. Sometimes, though, he asked for a bottle or was just given one, and it was fed to him. It was slower, and they were pressed for time, but it was worth it this morning.

 

As Becky held Jamie and his bottle in one hand and fed herself with the other, she thought about how much easier the day would be if Jamie were regressed. He’d have no clue what was happening; she could predict with reasonable confidence that he’d have a meltdown when she left him and then have a good day once something shiny distracted him. This was totally unpredictable.

 

Jamie finished his bottle and his toast, the big finished their eggs, and the dishes went into the sink. Becky went to change into her work clothes.

 

“So …, ” Amanda started. She didn’t know the next word.

 

“So …,” Jamie responded.

 

“You got your book and coloring book.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“A couple outfits if you need to change.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Your pacifier.”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Do you want to put in your pocket right now, just so it’s handy?”

 

“Oh, god, yes.” His body rolled in relief from his neck to his waist as he exhaled.

 

Amanda smiled at him, but without much mirth. She got his paci, and he slipped it into his pocket.

 

“It’s gonna be a good day, Jamie. Promise.”

 

“Yours too. Promise.”

 

Becky came back with her purse. “Well, are we ready?”

 

­­­­______________________________________________________________________________

 

Jamie got a decent look at the place from his car seat. It was busy. Bigs dropping off littles, a couple it appeared, like Jamie, for the first time. He could tell the ones who were experienced at this; they looked like it was no big deal, and some even looked happy. The other ones, well, he watched a big hand off a little to a woman in what he supposed was their uniform shirt, and he could hear the kid even though he was in the car.

 

The campus itself had two buildings. On one side, the one they pulled up to, the sign said “Little Hearth.” On the other, the sign said “Baby Hearth.” In between was a large, fenced in play area with a playground and toys scattered about.

 

“Do they have big children here,” Jamie asked.

 

“Yes, but you won’t see them.” Becky turned the car off and they sat in the silence for a moment.

 

Jamie’s instinct was to reassure Becky and Amanda and keep things moving. Instead, he decided he didn’t need to. No one expected him to; he was okay sitting there until one of them decided to open the car door. Let them be the …

 

“Alright,” Becky said opening the car door. Goddammit, Jamie thought.

 

Amanda wouldn’t always be with Becky to drop him off. But on his first morning, she wanted to be there. She carried his bag, and Becky carried him. Part of him wanted to walk; a lot of other littles were. They needed more supervision and care than he did. It was hard to appear mature when he was on someone’s hip. On the other hand, what was the point? Maybe he’d even get sympathy points or cuteness points or pity points or some other currency he could spend later.

 

“Diane …” Becky held out her free hand to a woman halfway between middle age and being a senior. She had long, salt and pepper hair and wore a tie-dye shirt that screamed, “I used to be a hippy and then I started a business and now I wear tie-dye.” I can dig that, Jamie thought.

 

“Rebecca, so good to see you again. This must be Amanda.” She shook Becky’s hand, then Amanda’s. “And this must be Jamie.” To his surprise, she stuck out her hand to him, and he shook it. He expected her to get in his facemand sing his name to him. “I’m so glad to meet you. Rebecca’s told me a lot about you.”

 

“Well,” Jamie said with his straight man face on, looking at Rebecca and back to Diane, “she lies a lot.”

 

Diana cackled, Amanda scoffed and chuckled, and Becky turned the red, mocking scolding him with a pat to his butt, “Jamie! You be nice.”

 

He’s going to run rings around some of my staff, Diane thought. She knew long good byes were harder and held out her arms. Becky’s smile faded, she gave him a kiss, and like she was handing over gold she passed Jamie to Diane. She situated him on her hip. Amanda gave Jamie a kiss and handed his bag to her.

 

“You guys have a good day. Jamie is in good hands.”

 

With forced cheer they bade him goodbye, and he waved. Before they could get more than a few steps, Jamie had to give them once last joke. “Hey Amanda. She turned back. “Make good choices today.” She sighed and walked back to give him another kiss.

 

“Thanks for the reminder. I’ve got your bear in my bag. If I get into any moral conundrums I’ll consult with him.” She ruffled his hair – she loved the feel of his soft, little hair – and she and Becky walked to the car. Diane turned to take him inside. None of them looked back.

 

“Hey, Mom,” Amanda said as the two of them walked. Her voice shook and then broke as a few tears got loose. “This fucking sucks!”

 

Becky leaned over and put her arm around her baby girl, who leaned back against her. “I know, baby.” She remembered dropping Amanda off at daycare the very first time. It fucking sucked.

 

Diane said to Jamie as she opened the door, “You’re funny!”

 

Jamie let himself relax. “I had to be.”

 

“Why?”

 

“So they wouldn’t feel sad.”

 

Diane surprised herself. In decades on the job she hadn’t gotten misty eyed at drop off in a very long time. “And how do you feel?”

 

Jamie leaned against her and sighed.

 

“That’s what I thought.” Rebecca’s right, Diane thought, he really is special.”

 

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1 hour ago, Author_Alex said:

None of them slept very well, each for their own reasons. Back to work; back to school; way, way back to daycare, in Jamie’s case. And knowing they had to get up earlier than they normally did made falling asleep harder. Unfair it what that is: the sooner you need to get up, the more your body won’t cooperate in falling asleep. Everyone was a little groggy.

giphy.gif

1 hour ago, Author_Alex said:

Of course, he wasn’t invading Grenada. Daycare, he knew, would be a challenge of a different magnitude.

:lol:

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2 hours ago, Author_Alex said:

He’s going to run rings around some of my staff, Diane thought.

I'm genuinely curious to see how this goes. I have to imagine at least a couple of the workers are not going to 'get the memo' about him. Looking forward to seeing the next part!

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I loved Diane’s thought regarding Jamie running rings around some of the staff...so much fun when that happens. I will say that I worked with special needs kids for a few years and firmly believe they are far more manipulative than general education because they learned to get you to do what they want. One of the best jobs I ever had! Not saying Jamie has special needs but the comment reminded me of when a new staff member arrived and the kids started pulling their tricks. Lol. Great chapter!

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Goodnight, all.

_________________________

Chapter 21, Part 3

 

 

Jamie may as well have buried his head in her armpit for how bright the place was. Primary colors everywhere – it was like a fire truck and school bus crashed into dump truck full of blue paint. The reception area was small and had three doors inside, one that went to an office, and one to the left that went to the playground, and one to the right, a heavy, wooden door with a tall, narrow glass pane, that went into the classroom.

 

“Jamie, this is Denise.”

 

Jamie put his polite smile back on and said hello. She said hello back.

 

“You ready to go inside?” Actually, Jamie wanted to say, is there a Starbucks I could chill at all day?

 

“I guess so” is what came out instead. As soon as the door cracked, twenty voices came out like pressurized air: talking, shouting, and a couple crying. For the first time in many years, not counting in church, Jamie made the sign of the cross.

 

“What’s that,” Diane asked, taking note of it.

 

“Just something I do when I’m nervous,” Jamie said. And when I most need to believe in a benevolent god. Once inside the room, he was at least gratified to see the room wasn’t so brightly painted. Still cheerful, but more soft pastels. It was a big space. The tables and chairs and large tiled area didn’t help the noise much. Diane walked straight to one of the bigs.

 

“April, I want you to meet Jamie.” April was a young woman, a little older than Amanda.

 

“Hi, Jamie! I’ve been looking forward to finally meeting you.” She smiled like she meant it.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, April.”

 

“I like the puppy on your shirt.”

 

Jamie died a little inside. Oh, god, it is so early for that conversation.

 

“I’m going to show Jamie around. Do you mind taking his bag for me?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

Jamie saw the library corner, where a few books looked like they might be entertaining for him. The carpet there was plush, and there were bean bag chairs and one big-sized rocking chair. He saw the art corner, where it looked like nothing had been paint-free for a very long time. Smocks hung on hooks on the wall, and a pictures were pinned to a peg board; some of them were good as far as amateur art went, and some of it was finger painted hand blobs. There was a nap area, which interested Jamie most, though he had a hard time picturing it being quiet enough to sleep without a couple bottles of formula. At the other end of the room, separated by a shoulder high cross-hatch fence, was a gymnasium; there wasn’t much in it, some soft balls and hula-hoops and tumbling mats. Finally, she led him over to the cubby area against the wall the classroom shared with the office and reception area.

 

“And this is your cubby.” His books were already in there along with his bag, put toward the back. “And this your chart.” She showed him a chart with his name at the top. Lines broke it into 30 cells. “If you have a good day, we put a yellow smiley face sticker on it. If you misbehave, you get a red frowny face.” There were lots of yellow faces. A half dozen charts, though, were more than half red.

 

Jamie surveyed the charts. “So, if you get a certain number of stickers, then what?”

 

Diane looked at him, then around to make sure no little ears could hear her, and smiled like she was getting away with something. “Nothing.”

 

“Then why do it?”

 

“Littles like stickers. And they think if they get a certain number of red stickers, they’ll get in trouble, so they behave better. But the number of stickers doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“Why tell me then?”

 

“Because you’re not regressed. Which either means you’ll be no trouble at all or a real handful, but either way stickers aren’t going to matter to you.”

 

“Guess not.” He looked down at the line and saw two charts nearly covered in red. “What’s their deal?”

 

“Billy and Bobby Barker. You just got to love them a little differently is all.”

 

“How very cryptic of you.”

 

“You like being clever with words.”

 

“I do.”

 

“You do.” Jamie thought she was scolding him, and in a mean way, too, when she started laughing and patted his butt a couple times. He remembered the first time Becky did that and wondered why every adult back home and big here patted diapered butts as if instinctually. He very much didn’t like it then, but he very much did now. He wasn’t sure why; it just made him feel … looked after.

 

“I promised your mom I’d stay with you until you were ready. What do you think?”

 

Jamie looked at the room. The bigs were doing their thing but he was more interested in the littles. One looked like he was regressed to a new born; he was swaddled in a blanket in a crib looking barely conscious; he wondered if he was a recent arrival or if he’d always be like that.

 

A few looked to be infant-stage. They crawled and mewled and played with very simple toys. The rest looked like toddler-stage, but it spanned a spectrum. A few looked the younger end; they weren’t as physical. A few looked the older end, some running like it was new to them, with feet going out a little when they went forward; others he could tell just by the activity they were doing or the toys they played with.

 

“Which ones are Bobby and Billy?” Diane pointed to two boys who had managed to get finger paint everywhere but their smocks. Big, tall boys they were, too.

 

“Want to avoid them?”

 

“No … just, wanted to know. Maybe … maybe I could even help.”

 

Diane repositioned Jamie so they were directly facing each other. “That’s very sweet of you. While you’re here, I want you to do whatever you want to so long as it makes you happy. BUT, you don’t work here. So please don’t feel obligated to do anything any of the other littles wouldn’t do. Your job here is to have fun, got it?”

 

Jamie nodded. “Got it.” Maybe he could help, if he decided he wanted to.

 

“Who are all the bigs?” There were three others besides April. One around April’s age, one even younger than Amanda, and one around what Jamie guessed was forty in human years.

 

“Jordan, Jean, and Carrie.” In order of age.

 

“Do any men work here?”

 

“Not many men work at daycares.” So that part’s like home, he thought.

 

“Jordan, Jean, and Carrie. Do they, uh, know I’m not regressed?”

 

“They do. Carrie has worked with unregressed littles before, but Jordan and Jean haven’t very much.”

 

“Anything else I should know?”

 

“Hmmm, let’s see …” she thought for a second. “Ah! The rules.” Next to the chalkboard was a post of rules:

 

·      Be nice, Be kind, Be caring, Be sharing

 

·      No name calling, No hitting, No biting, No not being nice, kind, caring or sharing

 

 

Diane looked at him as he read the rules. “You don’t look happy, Jamie. How can I make that better?”

 

It wasn’t anything in particular, more just the fact that he had to be there at all. None of these people looked … stimulating. But Jamie knew that wasn’t fair. He had to give them a chance.

 

“It’s a little … loud … and busy, in here.”

 

“Ya think so, huh,” Diane laughed. “Tell you what. If you ever need a break, you can ask April if you can come to my office or hang out with Denise. She’ll always say yes unless there’s a reason not to.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You ready to join in? Or at least go hang out with April?”

 

Jamie took a deep breath. “I guess so.”

 

Diane put him down. “Off you go. Just ask to come to my office if you need to.”

 

“Thanks again.” He looked at April on the side of the room with a bunch of free range littles in between. He walked over, and though a few eyes turned, none really paid him any mind.

 

“So …” he said when he reached April.

 

“Glad to see you back,” April said, turning away from a little she was helping color. “You going to be okay for a bit, honey,” she asked the little girl, who squeaked out an “uh huh,” not looking up.

 

There was an awkward moment. Jamie decided to fill it with a little fun on his part. “It’s a bear, by the way, on my shirt.”

 

“Every little says that. So weird.” Jamie laughed on the inside. “Anyway, welcome to the Guppies.”

 

“Guppies?”

 

“We’re the Guppies. Jordan has the Kangaroos. Jean has the Bluebirds. Carrie has the Hedgehogs.”

 

“We’re on teams?”

 

“Not really, just for organizing.”

 

“So how does this work? Is there like a schedule or something?”

 

“Well, lunch time, story time and nap time, but otherwise, no. Carrie does the art. The rest of us just float.”

 

“If we want to go outside?”

 

“Just ask. Usually a few people want to go when someone asks.”

 

“Anything you want to do?”

 

“Can I … just read my book?”

 

“Sure. Let me know if you need anything.”

 

Jamie sat himself down in a beanbag chair and questioned whether there was a connection between being mentally regressed and the ability to sit in a beanbag chair without it hurting your back. After trying to stand up, he decided to just flop out of it as the easiest way out. He popped back to his knees and looked around to see if anyone had seen his performance. Didn’t seem like it. Instead he gathered up a couple of cushions and pillows and made himself comfortable. The Carpet must have had especially dense padding, because he mostly was.

 

As he read, occasionally a little would walk past him to the bookshelf and give him the side eye. After about an hour he looked over the pages and saw a couple of littles watching him. He rolled over on to his stomach and kept reading. After only a few more pages, he sensed something was very close. Several somethings. Several somethings that didn’t have the same boundaries when it came to personal space. He rolled back over.

 

“Do you know how to read,” a little girl with brown hair asked him. She had a board book in her hands. Her voice was inquisitive, and she had just a little lisp on her “r.” Two other little were around him, and each of them had a book, too.

 

Jamie sighed and closed his book, then realized he didn’t remember the page number. Drat.

 

“I do know how to read. Would you like me to read to you?”

 

“Yes, please.” She handed him her book and sat down cross legged next to him. Jamie pulled himself into a sitting position. The other two littles formed a half circle around him.

 

Jamie opened the book to find it was about a baby elephant who got lost on his way home from the peanut store. It was well illustrated and had a pleasant meter. Jamie wasn’t sure what a baby elephant sounded like, but his plaintive trunk trumpet got peals of laughter. He had a good audience. A raccoon, a squirrel and a plain, brown bird turned out to be instrumental in helping Patrick the Pachyderm find his way home.

 

The next book was about a farmer who kept losing his sheep. That’s what a lazy sheep dog bear will get ya. What the lazy dog bear needed was a young sheep puppy cub to help him. The old dog bear taught the young puppy cub how to be a sheep dog bear, and the farmer stopped whinging so much. Jamie turned the book around before turning each page so the other littles could see.

 

The last was about cider maker whose apples were going bad. He tried every trick he knew, but they kept going bad. He even got apples from a different orchard, and those went bad. Ready to sell the distillery, the cider maker laid down on his mushy apples and cried. The sound of his sobs was heard by a little green worm, who came out to see what was the matter. When he heard the man lament his mushy apples, the worm was ashamed. He’d been eating a little bit of this one, a little bit of that one. He didn’t mean to. “Don’t cry,” said the worm. Jamie knew how to cry like a sobbing cyder maker (who’d tied one on), but he didn’t know what an apologetic worm sounded like. He asked his audience, and they didn’t know either, but they each made a good try, and Jamie told them so. The worm apologized from his heart, and the man forgave him and promised to give him the best apple he had every day, so long as the worm left the other apples alone. They both lived up to their word.

 

Jamie wanted to write an epilogue: the worm was later found floating in a vat of cider; he couldn’t hold his liquor. But he decided it wasn’t age appropriate, and anyway, one the bigs called out, “Who wants to go outside?”

 

Three sets of eyes lit up in front of him, and they bounced up like they were on springs.

 

“You’re welcome!” He called out after them, smiling. He’d had fun.

 

He got up to follow them. Jordan and April were outside along with most of the littles, who were playing on a swing set and in a sand box. Billy and Bobby chased each other, and it looked like they were fast enough that he could play with them, but he sensed they weren’t exactly playing.

 

The field was larger than he had been able to see from the parking lot, and it rose and fell a little in the middle. Another fence, with a gate in it, separated the two halves of the field, each with its own play equipment.  At the far end of the field, on the other side of a fence between the two buildings, was a third, smaller building. Jamie was curious and walked toward it. He found the gate locked. He could have easily climbed over, but decided against it. He figured he wasn’t allowed and didn’t want to get in trouble.

 

Turning back, he saw that the little rise in the field was high enough he could only see people’s heads, except the bigs. Them, he could see from the waist up. He liked that, thinking if he wanted to he could have this area to himself, so long as no one walked.

 

He rejoined the others. His little book club insisted he climb up onto the swing set. It was big, like the one at the park, with lots to climb on. He followed them up and through a tunnel between the slide platform and another platform. As he was coming out the other end, a big foot stepped on his hand hard. It wasn’t a stomp, but when Jamie drew his hand back and looked up, he saw it wasn’t an accident either. A smiling Billy (or Bobby, he didn’t know which was who yet), looked at him and then ran off.

 

Jamie rubbed his hurt hand with the other and flexed his fingers. “That little shit,” he cursed. The book club collectively gasped. He looked from his hand to them. “It’s okay. I’m not hurt.”

 

“You said a swear.” She said it so quietly, as if saying he had said a swear was tantamount to her swearing.

 

Jamie hadn’t done that yet around littles. He hadn’t given it much thought. Her expression was that of an evangelical preacher’s wife having just heard the choir leader blaspheme. Jamie actually felt a bit of regret.

 

Not that he ever minded swearing; he always thought it was kind of silly how worked up people get about kids swearing. He once got called to a school because one of his kids got suspended for calling a teacher an asshole. He couldn’t stand that petty shit; suspensions were one of the main reasons his kids dropped out, and the pettier the reason, the more likely. He listened to the self-righteous principal talk about the importance of respect until he had repeated himself twice and the lump of ego sat there smiling under his “Your Principal if Your Pal” banner. When the principal was done, Eric (back then) pressed his lips upward and shook his head in a dismissive roll. “Was the teacher being an asshole?” Did she learn it from you, you fucking asshole, he wanted to add. He got an earful from his boss, but he did get the suspension reversed.

 

But he hadn’t offended an asshole. He’d offended a little who, by heart or by conditioning, was genuinely upset to hear what he’d said.

 

“I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do it again.”

 

“It’s okay. I won’t tell on you.” She said like she was giving him a gift and that it was the best gift she could give. Jamie was a little touched.

 

“I’m Jamie. What’s your name?”

 

“Jenny.”

 

“Thanks for not telling on me, Jenny.” She just smiled and scurried off.

 

He scooted the rest of the way out of the tunnel and climbed back down to the ground.

 

Bobby or Billy or whichever little turd was waiting for him. Jamie wasn’t even sure what to say. He didn’t especially care; he wasn’t hurt. He was happy to let it go. That’s not how bullies work, though.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“Jamie. What’s yours?”

 

“Bobby. I don’t like you.”

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2 hours ago, Sarah Penguin said:

uh-huh.  Of course there's bullies :(  Now I don't want more story time quite so much.

Say the word and I’ll have Bobby attacked by a swarm of bees

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7 hours ago, Author_Alex said:

I guess so” is what came out instead. As soon as the door cracked, twenty voices came out like pressurized air: talking, shouting, and a couple crying. For the first time in many years, not counting in church, Jamie made the sign of the cross.

:lol:

7 hours ago, Author_Alex said:

Bobby or Billy or whichever little turd was waiting for him. Jamie wasn’t even sure what to say. He didn’t especially care; he wasn’t hurt. He was happy to let it go. That’s not how bullies work, though.

 

“What’s your name?”

  

“Jamie. What’s yours?” 

 

“Bobby. I don’t like you.” 

Yeah that little shit comes at me and he's gonna be on his ass....

I don't start shit.... I don't do drama..... But if you start something you can damn well be sure I'm ending it....

@Author_Alex

 

 

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A swarm of bigs whooping bobbby ass , or Jamie knocking Bobby down and filling the back of his diaper with play ground gravel ?. I remember I use to get even when I was in daycare, and why is all the daycare owners I know named Diane ???

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2 hours ago, Sarah Penguin said:

the word is given :)

 

2 hours ago, YourFNF said:

:lol:

Yeah that little shit comes at me and he's gonna be on his ass....

I don't start shit.... I don't do drama..... But if you start something you can damn well be sure I'm ending it....

@Author_Alex

 

 

 

1 hour ago, Shawnie said:

A swarm of bigs whooping bobbby ass , or Jamie knocking Bobby down and filling the back of his diaper with play ground gravel ?. I remember I use to get even when I was in daycare, and why is all the daycare owners I know named Diane ???

Ya’ll some cold muthafuckas, man.

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9 minutes ago, Author_Alex said:

 

 

Ya’ll some cold muthafuckas, man.

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Damn straight....

?

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The adults in my experience did not help, unless you count the teacher who being universally disliked for writing up the slightest infraction did not write me up when I finally snapped after years of insults and physical provocation from an idiot bully that I was seated by directly in front of the teachers desk where she saw it go down.  I suddenly was on my feet having jumped my desk somehow (i don't remember it) and shoved the bully hard enough his desk flipped over and deposited him on the ground on the far side. Having been taunted and hit by him since 2nd grade this was 5th grade at the time, he never gave me problems again. 

 

Didn't really with the rest of the namecallers and abusers after it left collective memory after a couple weeks.  Did snap later on with different people and started projecting a don't fuck with me aura through middle school.  In high school things were different I was being called fat on our first away game (was in the band) and the seniors ran them off and when I said I was used to it had been going on forever they we'll (the seniors)protect you and somehow they did.  Even after the seniors left the band had my back.  Nobody else has cared when I reported stuff - things might change until I left class and I'd come back next and same old things going on as before.  I intended to be in band for 2 years as it would get me out of having to was my time in a gym class but I stayed because they were actually supportive and that made the whole marching season endurable. :)

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4 hours ago, 'Lil Wendi said:

You're writing is incredibly tedious and your story is uninteresting.

Incredibly tedious is the way I like it,as well as others. Uninteresting that's your opinion. I put Alex in with some of the top writers on here. Don't like it don't read it.

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