Puffing out your chest, you sprint across the nursery floor, doing your best method acting to try and really get into the roll of a mouse. You feel like your furry form darting across the room has got to look at least a little convincing, especially considering Ricky is only one years old and doesn’t know any better.
Unfortunately, because he doesn’t know any better, Ricky isn’t afraid of you at all. The giant baby giggles, happily dropping his other toys and reaching for you instead as you approach. You quickly try to turn around but your momentum works against you, and in the moment it takes you to change direction Ricky’s pudgy fingers have already gripped you tight.
“Gah!” Ricky squeals happily, giving you a light squeeze as he bounces up and down with excitement, his little arms flailing as the baby’s joy proves too great for his tiny body to contain. You groan, your stomach getting tossed as if at sea by all this motion. Even worse, you see Ricky happily raising you towards his mouth! It’s at this moment you remember with horror that article you read a few months ago about the baby that was found playing with a dead mouse in her mouth. Toddlers are known for sticking all sorts of things in there, and as you gaze into the slimy depths of Ricky’s baby mouth, that eagerly thrashing tongue tells you you’re next.
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