Mom carried you to a little plate on the kitchen table. She slowly placed you on it. By the time you woke up, the food was almost finished, so you didn't have to wait long until you got to eat. Today was was a thin carrot slice and a tiny piece of chicken breast from your mother's sandwich. It was basically nothing for a normal sized person, but for you these would keep you full for several days. "Bon appetit!" Your mom said, and the two of you ate.
One of the things you miss from your normal sized life is the small talks with your family every morning. With no way to talk to her from afar, the two of you mostly stay silent. They haven't invented microscopic smartphones for tinies yet, so all you did was stare into space, or your mother.
As your mom took big bites off her sandwich, you imagined what would happen if you somehow got in it. Would she notice? You shudder at the thought. Then you focused on the crumbs that fell off. Most would fall on the table or her lap, but a few would land on her breasts. If the crumbs stay there, they would make some good late night snacks, you thought.
10 minutes of staring later, you two finished up and are ready to get with your day. It's the weekend and she is free right now, so it's a perfect time for a little mother-child bonding. At least that's what your mom believed.
She took off her apron, went towards you, then slowly picked you up from your plate. You are cradled on the palm of her left hand. Your mother kept staring at you, after a while she shed a tear from her eye. At that moment, as if sitting on a rocket, the hand you are on was speeding towards her left tit, but then slowed down as soon as her hand made contact. You spread your arms out knowing what came next. She pushed, stroked and squeezed her breast ever so slightly, her way of hugging you like she would have when you were a baby. You hug her back and enjoy the moment, her shirt and bra-clad flesh all around you.
After a minute, your mom pulls back her hand. "We're gonna have some fun, baby." She cooed. Whatever her idea of "fun" would be was often not compatible with your current reality, so you are waiting with a mix of excitement and dread for what will happen.
What is your mother going to do?