Chapter #5Hi-ho, Up the Three-Year-Old we go.... by: lark   "Ooh ooh, I know!"
She beams at you, that glint of malevolence disappearing. Or did it...?
Setting you down gently, for a toddler, her massive pink-and-white sneaker crashes down next to you. Standing up to her full height (which may have been about two-and-a-half feet, really, but to you it was a hundred) she all but shouted down at you.
"Cwimb me, cwimb me!"
She hopped lightly with each syllable, the massive shoe bouncing a little too close for comfort, causing you to inch away, literally. Your heart pounded in your ears almost as loudly as her soles on the concrete, but you knew it was time to end this charade. Scrambling to where you could see her expectant face, you yelled back.
"Now listen young lady, I need you to take me to the teacher right now, ok? I'm not going to play with you right now, this is serious!"
Her head hung directly above you as she stared down. Her stance widened a bit, and the threw her fists down at her sides.
"You haff to, youw' a buggy, and buggies cwimb me! If dey don't...."
She raised a foot directly above you as high as she could. Immediately you fell down, halfway between the fetal position and flailing every limb as much as you could.
"WaitwaitwaitokokokokI'llclimbyou!"
Words had never spilled out from you so quickly in your life, and for a brief moment you feared she would believe you were mocking her. Instead, the foot lowered, away from you, thank goodness. As she did so, her leg moved out of the way of the sun, allowing you to see her colossal visage once more, smiling, thankfully.
"Yay! Good buggy, cwimb me cwimb me, huwwy up!"
Taking a quick look around for any potential out, you resigned yourself to your task. Any other kids, adults, or whatever caused this situation or could get me big again were not conveniently nearby. As you approach the shoe, you compare yourself to it and breathe a small sigh of relief. Now that it's still, you see that you're about as tall as it at its highest point- specifically, you're about eye-level with the tot's ankle.
Putting your hands on the divot of the shoe, you pull yourself up onto it easily enough. Being this close, you see the stockings she's wearing- maybe she has ballerina class? As you grip it, your foot slips, falling up to your waist into her shoe. A series of childish giggles echo far above you as your climbing surface squirms, causing you to grip with all of your three-inch might and pull your leg free. The giggles subside, replaced by a very familiar voice.
"Hee hee, dat's da wong way buggy, unwess you wanna be in my soo? Does da buggy wanna tickew my feet?" She trailed off with another giggle, her adorable childish glee not as cute from this angle.
Caught between an insole and a hard climb. The climb was safer, comparatively, but even if you made it to the unspecified goal, there was no guarantee of cooperation or salvation. On the other hand, it would be literally effortless to say "sure!" and let a five-story toddler press all of her weight on you and hope for the best.... Which do you choose?   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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