January 5--Thomas Cole, The Titan's Goblet. Clara woke that Wednesday morning and felt extra small. It seemed to take her hours to scoot to the edge of her bed and it looked very far down to the floor where her red slippers rested. She held tight to the blanket so that she wouldn't fall as she eased herself over the side, pointing her toes to touch the floor before letting go. Her mama wished her a good morning and didn't notice that she'd shrunk to nearly mouse-size overnight. Papa swung her over his head and gave her a whiskery kiss before gently setting her in her chair. She peered over the edge of the table at her Peter Rabbit cereal bowl that was the size of a wading pool and the Cheerios that Mama was pouring sounded like falling boulders as they hit the china dish. How would she manage to eat when a single oatey oh was big enough for her to wear like a life preserver around her middle?
Well, that was fun to write. It came screaming out so fast I could barely move my pencil to keep up. Whew. Hey, Durwood's off having breakfast with a few Census 2000 pals so I'm off to have my solitary breakfast and revel in the solitude. Toodles.