He sprinted across the damp backyard grass moving as fast as his size 6 sneakers would carry him.
“Daddy! Help me!” the little boy shrieked.
But his panicked screams went unanswered. And the black chunky squirrel was gaining.
“Daddy! Please!” he yelled, his eyes watering, his pudgy cheeks glowing red.
The boy ducked behind a small maple. He grabbed hold of the trunk with both hands and shimmied his way up, the pesky squirrel scratching at his tiny feet.
From the deck, his parents savored their evening cocktails.
“Well?” Mommy asked.
“Told him not to befriend the wildlife,” Daddy answered.
The Weekday One Hundred 