þrír; action

[withsparkles]

[There's another little kid crawling about your town. Just that this one is really, really tiny. Not-yet-without-diapers tiny. From the geolocial epoch Miocene-tiny.

a. Sometimes, it stops and looks around. It seems to be looking for something.

b. And sometimes, it just curls up on your front lawn and takes a nap.]

Comments

B

[shoeofbaileys]

[Oh baby, did you ever just make a mistake. Old Gregg don't like no babies taken no naps on his lawn, kid. He's just gonna shake you, pretty roughly, glowering.]

What you doin' on Old Gregg's lawn? This ain't no day care center, no sir.

[withsparkles]

[Stares at. Stares some more, and then crawls over and pokes Old Gregg's shoe with a stick. Maybe it will explode.]

[shoeofbaileys]

[Old Gregg grabs the little guy by the scruff of the neck. Oddly enough, he does it fairly gently. Like he's discovered something weird and new and doesn't want to hurt it as he picks it up.]

Old Gregg didn't tell you none to poke him with no stick.

[withsparkles]

[Confused.

Giggles, looking down and then back at the man's face. This is exciting! Flails a bit.]