Hey!

So, uh, obviously, this story was supposed to have been posted days ago on Mother's Day, but my mind has been all over the place lately, and I couldn't write it fast enough. I also wanted to make sure it wasn't rushed, though.

I had a strong itch to write this story, because I feel that the relationship between SpongeBob and his mother hasn't been that well-explored in the series. That's just my opinion. But I think that their interactions so far have been pretty cute and endearing (much like those with Grandma SquarePants, haha).

This was originally intended to be a one-shot, but y'know, my fingers just carry me wherever they please. I did try to make sure the first chapter wasn't too long this time, however, unlike Raindrops and Small Talk. Yikes! Lol. I'm also working on not making my writing too flowery or unnecessarily long. Baby steps. Anyways, enough of my babbling. Hope you enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own SpongeBob SquarePants or any of its characters. I do, however, own this story.

Mommy

Every year, in the latter half of spring, the ocean waters seemed to sparkle more brightly than at any other time, under the biggest spotlight there was: the sun. It was almost like a party of sorts; the water and the giant, burning star were the hosts, and the sea rocks and plants were the guests. And, of course, who could forget the residents of the animated city, Bikini Bottom?

The people appreciated this lively season, inhaling the flowers until they sneezed their fins off; expressing themselves with their choices of cooler clothing – not that their typical floral shorts and skimpy bikinis were anything special. And, most of all, wrapping themselves up in the warmth of the weather with their loved ones.

Such was especially true for people like–

"Heyyyyy, Garyyy! Which shirt do ya think Mom would like better, hmmm?"

That guy, SpongeBob SquarePants. The dude who made a crab lots of money, annoyed an octopus 'round the clock, foiled an evil genius's plans, made a squirrel laugh, was a sea star's best friend, and was both mommy and daddy to a "child" with big, red eyes and a shell. Oh, and he also lived in an abnormally large fruit that he had trouble keeping his pink friend from eating.

Gary was used to his owner interrupting his TV time, but it was Sunday, for the love of barnacle loaf! The early afternoon of that day was the second-most exciting event for the intelligent snail, other than waking up and knowing he'd get to chow down like a sea piggy on his favorite can of that mushy, brown stuff that made SpongeBob gag many times, back when he thought he lost his name tag.

Right now, the yellow cereal box with pores was blocking his favorite, romantic, black and white movie that he totally hadn't watched twenty or more times in recent months. And right when the boy snail was about to rub eye stalks with the pretty girl snail!

He gave the two shirts in SpongeBob's hands a good up-and-down glance, both garments having the same pattern of coconuts but one slightly bluer than the other.

"Can ya read what it says, Gare?"

Despite Gary nodding his head (if one could call it that), the over-excited sponge was as oblivious as always. "See? It says, 'I COCO-Couldn't be nuttier about you!'" Isn't it the cutest thing ever?! Bahahaha!"

Gary let out an irritated sigh without hesitation. Oh, a shirt with any kind of food with the word "nut" was appropriate for that blue-eyed ball of eccentric energy.

"Meow, meow (Nah, not really. It just seems cheesy to me… like you.)"

"Well, I do resemble that stinky cheese Squidward gets from that fancy magazine every month. Heehee!" he kept smiling, choosing to ignore the eye-roll that he received.

His pet looked relieved when his view of the television was clear again, re-gluing his eyes to the screen as SpongeBob shrugged happily and folded up the clothing items, setting them down on the arm of the red chair.

"Eh, you're probably right, Gare. I think Sandy would get more of a kick out of these shirts than Mother would," he chuckled. "SquarePants it is! Get it?" he stared down at his lower half, using his small hands to present the focus of the undesired joke.

"'Cause that's my name, and these are my pants– "

"YES, HE GETS IT!"

SpongeBob and Gary glanced toward the open window at the sound of an angry Squidward, presumably soaking his tentacles in a bath he'd already been in long enough to be compared to a couple of prunes.

RING, RING!

SpongeBob's lips form the letter 'O' as the purple shell phone bounced off the round table that sat in-between the couch and chair. "Ooh, I'll get it!" he skipped across the room to answer, his childish humming and the ringing loud enough to block out Gary's daily dose of snarkiness.

"Meow (Ugh, thank Neptune. It's about time)." Now, the last few minutes of this mush-fest of a movie had his full attention.

"Helllloooooo, SpongeBob the Squarest of Pants speaking! Do do do do do do dee do. Bahaha!"

Well, that would be the case if Papa-Bob wouldn't yell out every word like his crabby boss did with orders. At least he wouldn't play his own theme song on his nose again, though… hopefully.

Out of all the voices he knew, he never expected to hear the sweet gentleness of the one that sounded as though it was hiding a big bucket of disappointment under its tongue. It was hard. Very hard, it seemed, for this voice to stand with its usual, cheery strength.

"Hello, SpongeBob, dear… h-how are you doing today?"

That voice. It was always soft, but not normally to the point of fading into the dark shadows of the seawater.

Instantly, SpongeBob's smile did just that; dissolving into a frown. Usually, whoever was on the other end would find his loud cheerfulness amusing (unless it was Squidward or some grumpy receptionist reminding him about a doctor's appointment. Maybe even Mr. Krabs when he was not in the mood to be friendly but needed to use him in a fit of greed).

He especially believed that he would be able to see this one person's smile in his mind just by the way she spoke; she was the one who had blessed him with a kindhearted nature, after all. But sometimes, life tosses things into the realm of the unanticipated.

"Mom? I-is that… you? I-I mean, of course, it's you but… is it really you?" his left hand came to meet the other that held the phone to the side of his head, making sure it didn't slip.

"Yes, sweetie, it's me," she managed a quiet giggle. "How are you?"

Margaret and her son had a relationship that was, much like that of other people, somewhat comparable to the life of a house plant; if left too long without water and the rays of the sun, it would surely begin to wilt. But luckily, both creatures were born with enough love in their hearts to never let it die completely.

For the woman resting on her side of the couch in the living room of her and Harold's home, it was clear that her spirit was feeling rather deprived of those life-giving gifts. Her eyes weighed down by the pattern of the magenta blanket she'd been knitting for Neptune knew how long, her ears swimming in the mostly silent house she had broken her back taking care of for years, and her heart, beating along with the ticking of the grandfather clock and being reminded every one of those seconds that she was alone. Again.

She adored her husband with all of her spongy being, and he never failed to let her know that his feelings for her were one-hundred-percent genuine (well, except for when she got on his nerves a bit with her constant display of affection and needlessly echoing his opinions on certain subjects). However, even the people closest to you can drift away from time to time, and on this Mother's Day, Harold's attention was, unfortunately, focused on a business trip pretty darn far out of town.

Margaret respected her beloved's schedule; she couldn't help his "being in the office all hours of the day", anyways. But that did not mean that the enemy known as loneliness didn't make itself comfortable right in her lap, especially as she had gotten older.

Sure, there was Harold's mother with whom she could converse, but that sweet old lady could make her feel worn, what with the countless plates of cookies she liked to stuff people with, and how she would pass out mid-sentence if she had stayed up late the night before, knitting tiny sweaters that were too big for her grandson but ripped apart as soon as Patrick pulled one over his shoulders.

She had even called Grandma SquarePants in the morning to congratulate her on being such a great mother to Harold and grandmother to SpongeBob, and, what do ya know, the conversation was short-lived due to her driving to the store to purchase more ingredients for cookies.

Then, there was that book club she joined a while back, but too much reading could become tiresome, as well. Not to mention some of her "friends" that were cattier than a snail not being fed on time. Enough said.

Finally looking up from the blanket's dizzying pattern and staring at the new coffee table, admiring the blue tulips Harold had recently surprised her with, Margaret's mind could only fly off to one place, and that was the comforting thought of her son's pretty eyes – yet another thing she had blessed him with.

Lately, she'd been stuck on the fact that she hadn't gotten to spend as much time with him as she would've liked during his adult life. Indeed, she had been there for him through many troubling times, but those times didn't come around all that often, which was both good and sad in some ways.

She just assumed he was busy 24/7 like his father. She didn't want to come across as a clingy, smothering mother, even though sometimes she slipped up on that goal.

Nevertheless, that distance between them had created a bit of a hole in her heart. But she was greatly comforted that there was a chance to fill it in.

"Oh, I'm GREAT! Gosh, Mom, am I happy that you called today!" he said, bringing back his smiley tone in an attempt to bring hers back, too.

Oh, the sound of his caring voice. She needed him so terribly.

A small smile tickled her lips upon taking in his enthusiasm. "And I'm happy I called you, dear. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Oh, no! Ha, ha, not really," he shook his head, playing with his tie. "I'm just hangin' out in the ol' living room with my Gary. He's watching his favorite movie."

"Meow, meow (I would be watching it if, y'know, you'd stop making up a new script for the characters.)"

Margaret knew, by his awkward chuckle, that that snail of his was acting the way she did when she was a teenager. The cuteness of the thought made her smile spread out a bit further.

"Aww. Well, that sounds like fun."

"Heh, yeah."

There was the quietness again, coming to dwell in her ears for a moment. But this time, instead of reminding her of her solitude, it allowed her to do exactly what her boy was doing. Imagining the other's silly yet tender smile was a mental activity neither one knew they needed.

"You know what would be even funner?!"

Yikes! She had forgotten just how startling his excited outbursts could be. Too bad the reminder had to come when she was in the middle of pouring ice water into a shiny glass. The water was on the table now, so it was a good thing the dryer was finished with those kitchen towels.

"What's that, dear?"

SpongeBob was pretty sure his bottom lip was about to rip open with how hard he was biting it. But who cared?! Not him!

"Spending time with my beautiful mother on Mother's Day! We could go do annnyyything you want," he made a gesture similar to that of his "imagination" rainbow.

"Oh… honey, that's very sweet of you, but I wouldn't want you to go through any trouble– "

"Nooo! It wouldn't be any trouble at all! I already had plans to come see you today, anyway."

"You… you did?"

"Of course! I always love seeing you."

Goodness, gracious! As if calling her "beautiful" wasn't enough to make her place her hand over her touched heart. If he'd have seen it, it would've melted his heart quicker than Squidward's ego did when people booed him during his clarinet "concerts."

"Like I said, we can do anything you want in the whole world! Like go for ice cream, or go see a movie, or even go to the park and watch the pets drag their owners around until they find the right spot to pee in! OOH, it could be SO much fun– "

Silly Bob. It sometimes took a moment or two for reality to slap him with a "Hey, doofus!", just like the time Perch Perkins shouted through the television at a gluttonous Patrick at Glove World.

"Or, I-I mean… yeah, we can do anything that you want, heh, heh. It is Mother's Day, after all. Not SpongeBob Day, bahaha! Well, come to think of it," he tapped his chin, "there actually is a SpongeBob Day. That's when everybody gets away from me. Oh, and there's a Patrick Day, too. Ha, ha! But, uh, anyway, that's beside the point. Y-ya still there, Mom? I didn't lose you, did I?"

Her giggle was like the biggest hug SpongeBob could ever want – even bigger than Sandy and Patrick's bone-crushing bear hugs that didn't actually break his bones because he was an invertebrate (thank Neptune above).

"Nope, I'm still here. Spending the day with you does sound so wonderful! It's been so quiet around here for such a long time and…" she sighed, her tone dancing with eagerness as she folded the red, plaid kitchen towels into a neat pile on the coffee table. "Goodness! I've been just dying to– "

The feeling of his sympathetic smile swirled around her in the silence. Being by oneself could sure make them numb to their desperation.

"I mean, with Harold away on his business trip and all, I just– well, I've been feeling… oh, I'm not sure how to describe it."

"You're lonely, huh?"

"Well, I…"

"That's okay, Mom. We can all get a little lonely from time to time. But the truth is, none of us are really alone, because anyone we turn to just about anywhere can become a friend."

Her delicate, orange hands landed on the towel pile with a heavy pat. Ah, that child. She had no clue how he was able to sprinkle a depressing situation with his magical spongy dust and make it more meaningful in the strangest yet most genuine, heartwarming way possible.

"I… I think you're right, dear. I agree." Her half-frown morphed into a grin. "That's very true. I like the way you put it."

Adjusting his tie ambitiously, SpongeBob shifted into his "rescue mode", which couldn't go without his signature "I'm ready to save the day!" look, including a well-meaning smirk and a hilariously ridiculous deeper voice.

"Why, thank you, Mother. But right now is not the time for flattering words. 'Tis the time for your loneliness to disappear like magic!" he took a brief pause, staring into space with wide eyes. "Probably within the next ten seconds or so. See ya then!"

"Wait, w-what? SpongeBob? Hold on just a minute!" she stared down at the phone, confusion plastered on her face as the line buzzed with the dial tone. She was somewhat convinced at this point that she was going a wee bit crazy after she could've sworn she heard a faint, "Bye, Gary!" before she was cut off.

Sometimes she wondered where that boy got that eccentric side of his. In truth, it came not only from both her and Harold, but the SquarePants family as a whole. A cousin who destroyed everything he put his hands on, another tiny cousin who liked to beat up SpongeBob's toes for fun, an uncle who always blasted his music loudly enough to misunderstand every word his nephew said – the list went on. It seemed that oblivious streak ran through just about all of those porous people.

Jumping to her feet, Margaret ran to the nearest old-fashioned mirror and attempted to smooth out her hair. Her excitement to see her dear son was high, but so was her irritation. If there was one thing she didn't like, it was being rushed. Then again, it wasn't like SpongeBob had a boat to drive. There was no chance he could seriously make it to her secluded house within ten–

"Knock knocccck! Your goody bag of fun has arrived!"

Her annoyance was obliterated as soon as she heard that sweet giggle outside her door. Whether she looked decent or not, she couldn't help but paint a smile on herself in the mirror. She knew that when she opened the door, her inner troubles would fade into the background a bit.

Well, It turned out, as she twisted the handle and the sight of her son wearing a bicycle helmet appeared, those troubles sank deep into the ground (and her heart skipped a little, too), thanks to the way he jumped forward and threw his arms around her in a tight, long-overdue embrace.

"Hi, Mom!"

"H-hello, sweetie…"

No. Heck no. It was too early in the day for her to start tearing up.

SpongeBob shut his eyes as the arms that held him moments after he was born slowly returned his loving embrace.

A mother could ask for nothing more special than to feel her and her child's heart beating together in rhythm.

This was going to be a good day.

The two pulled apart, four blue sparkling pools meeting each other in a silence filled with deep fondness.

"That's quite a nice bike you have there, son," she nodded to the clean, recumbent tricycle sitting like a prize in the yard.

"Thanks! It actually isn't mine, heh. I borrowed it from Squidward. I was kind of in a rush, so I didn't really have the time to ask him properly," he smiled sheepishly, replaying the scene that happened literally seconds before.

"Hey, Squidward, can I borrow your bike?"

"What? No!– "

"Thanks, buddy! I promise I'll have it back at the end of the day!"

It seemed he had forgotten about that old "Free Balloon Day" incident years ago.

"Oh! No wonder you got here so fast," she chuckled.

"Ha, ha, yeah! Oop– but let's not forget, I was the Quickster at one point."

His wink sent her flying into a fit of giggles. "Well, I sure hope your neighbor Squidward doesn't mind," she kept her smile on him while reaching inside the door and grabbing a blue purse that was tiny enough for Plankton's grandma to use.

"Nahhh," he waved her off, "I'm sure he won't. We are best friends, after all."

"That's funny. I thought Patrick was your best friend."

"Oh, he is! But Squidward is my SECOND-best friend. He's always trying to help me practice my 'quiet voice' at work by pinching my lips closed with one of those potato chip bag clips, ha, ha, ha!"

"Our boy sure has a lot of interesting friends." The words she had spoken at his birthday party echoed in her head as she shut the front door, her features glowing with concern – mostly because of his nonchalant smile. He must've gotten used to Squidward's harsh attitude. Either that or he never noticed it in the first place. The latter seemed more probable.

SpongeBob plopped his square behind onto the bike, patting the green basket that sat on the back. "Hop in, Mom! There's plenty of room back here!"

"Oh, I don't know, SpongeBob. I'm not so convinced Squidward wouldn't mind."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I do mind, you numbskull!"

Squidward seemingly appeared out of nowhere, panting heavily with sweat and anger dripping down his face. Whew! That sponge was good at a lot of things: making Krabby Patties, being annoying, and making Squidward chase after him until his heart wanted to erupt like a volcano (or like his temper).

Luckily, the awkward, hostile atmosphere wouldn't last long; Squidward made sure of that as he flicked SpongeBob off his precious mode of transportation like a bug, proceeding to take back ownership of the seat and pedal away with his typical, exasperated mumbling.

SpongeBob, still sitting motionless on the ground, stared at a blank-faced Margaret, using only his eyes.

"Heh, guess he hasn't had his afternoon tea yet."

A second later, more cranky, unintelligible words could be heard as Squidward came screeching back, and SpongeBob was robbed of the helmet that he had robbed himself.

"Barnacle head," the octopus murmured while pedaling into the distance again. He hadn't even bothered to acknowledge the existence of his neighbor's mother. Although, he did feel sorry for the woman, having to raise the yellow menace.

Ah, the poor lad. Even as a fully grown man (or something like it), he still made the silliest of mistakes. But to tell the truth, who didn't?

A jovial Margaret stood above her stunned child, offering a caring tap to his head. "Why don't we just take my car?"

"Yeah, good idea."

That familiar tide of sweetness washed over them once more, both sharing a comforting smile as he took her outstretched hand to help him back on his feet, and this wasn't the first time she could say she did that for him. If his house were to get slurped up by those pesky nematodes again, there was no question that she would be more than happy to welcome him back into his childhood home.

Sliding into the driver's seat next to him and starting the old station wagon, she almost wished she could relive those days when he was oh-so small and helpless. Being pregnant with him all those months was an adventure neither she nor Harold could ever forget.

Cradling him while he burst into tears fresh out of the womb, looking into his newborn eyes, hearing his gentle little voice say "Mommy" for the first time many months later – she'd give anything to be able to hear that word come out of his mouth the same way today.

"Are ya ready for some big fun, Mom?" he asked, clenching his fists excitedly.

Margaret nearly had to shake her head free of her deep thoughts. Oh, the heartfelt emotions that exploded inside her when she turned to look at that kind, handsome face. Where did those perfectly white buckteeth come from? Perhaps Grandpa SquarePants was to blame. If only he were still alive so that she could thank him.

"Yes, honey, I certainly am ready. I'm as ready as I could ever be!" she grinned brightly. "Where would you like to go?"

"Nuh-uh-uh!" he wagged his finger. "This is your day, remember? You get to choose."

"Hmm, well…" she peered at the green-colored numbers on the car clock. "It's getting close to lunchtime, and I am starting to work up a bit of an appetite."

"Ooooh, I think I know where you're going with this… "

If they could play endearing games like this more often, it would give her an even bigger reason to try and find time to spend with him.

"The Krusty Krab!" they shouted, throwing their hands up and falling into a sea of laughter.

And so, the world disappeared around them as they slipped into their own world, full of nostalgia and new, carefree memories to be made. Nothing could stand in front of them and block this stream of happy feelings.

Too bad it wasn't the same story for ol' Squiddy, who was currently bumping his head and limbs as he tumbled off a cliff to what should have been his doom, creating a miniature mushroom cloud when he hit the bottom. And surprise, surprise, his tricycle sat at the top of the cliff, unharmed. As he lay there, blackened to a crisp on the sand, he could pick up on the faint sound of a passing car and jolly laughter.

Although this wasn't karma, seeing that all he did was take back what belonged to him, the universe still enjoyed destroying him any chance it got.

"Oh, whatever," he coughed dryly. "Next time, he can keep the stupid bike. Aghhh!"