by A Cassandra.
seething, Mina is well named
Wilhelmina Watt was sat on the floor by the big old armchair. Her ridiculous smooth shiny white nylon dress spread out in a circle around her. Her stubby fingers grip a fake leather ball, full of bean or beads, which she is banging on the floor. She giggles at each impact. Thud, thud, thud. Lifting her arm once more the large flattened object escaped her grasp. It fell with one last thud.
Before anyone can react, the slobber is there. A shiny shaggy copper-red mop of hair. Large off-white teeth with yellow roots. And slobber, buckets, and gallons of saliva everywhere he goes. He grabs her ball and away.
Fuming and seething, Mina is well named. She grips the chair and hauls herself onto her feet. Her knees bowing outwards because of her age, she launches herself at the slobber. Griping the carpet with her toes on every step, she reels like a drunken sailor jogging.
Charge! Slobber sees her, swings round his back end. Knocks her flying. To land on her pad. A leak, well that's what pads are for. Everybody laughs and they're laughing at her. She tries to get to her feet, but with nothing to climb. Left foot behind right knee, and over she rolls. Then upon all fours fingers and toes. Charge! The slobber yelps and leaps sideways. Mother picks her up. Then puts her ball away.
No one has more potential than a toddler or to be more likely to trip over her own feet.