The Drooling Crusader

She didn’t notice the shoe missing until a piece of gravel sank deep into the soft pad of her chubby big toe.

“Ga! Ga dam et!” She spit out over her chin, rolling over onto her padded tush. That hurt worse than a diaper rash on a hot day.

Her pink fighting shoe must have flown off when it connected with the four toothed grin of the League of Toddler’s thug leader. She remembered a spray of drool and the flash of a baby tooth flying through the night air. Not her shoe. The defeated leader had been brought to his knees in the empty car space, begging for mercy as tears and yellow snot ran down his face. She just gave back a gummy grin. Weakling.

The fight had been brutal but she had prevailed over the LoT’s nefarious plan to spread their toddling ways. Thanks to her the Rug Rats Ruled!

When she finally got home, popped in the doggy door and crawled up to her crib, all she wanted was her favorite doll, a warm bottle and her nuk, and in that order.

She fell asleep wondering who would find her pink shoe.

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