Don't tell Me I've Nothin' to Do [Backdated before the Clock is broken] [Closed to Claire, Leon]
Smaller didn't necessarily mean Sherry was less of a handful. Somewhere during the time it took her to shrink from four to somewhere around two, she'd gotten more curious and - inexplicably -louder. She was quick, too, on those fat little legs of hers, as she ran from Interesting Thing, to More Interesting Thing.
Naturally, anything she found went straight to her mouth, and then immediately subjected to a chorus of "Ew! Ewwwwww!" Claire's dog was a "cat", no matter how many times Sherry was corrected otherwise. And the poor alien pup itself was subjected to Sherry climbing on its back and clinging to it like pony until she was either plucked off or fell off.
Still, there were some good things about this. Sherry was sweeter, more amiable, liked being spoken to and enjoyed being tossed high in the air. Over. And over. And over. Which is why the little tot was addressing her mother with the biggest, sweetest pair of blue eyes meant to be totally convincing.
"Mama! Up!" Her chubby little hands grasped for the hem of Claire's shirt, falling short. "Up!"