A Diabolical Leaf Pile
As Logged By: Agent Chase Raking the leaves seems a bore For a baby watching by the door. Vroom vroom with the leaf blower Why not just use the mower? Now the mountain's getting high. It almost reaches to the sky! You want me to do what? But Gobbles is going in red-hot! I crawl to the left, I crawl to the right. I sit on my rump and I give a huff. This dratted playpen has no weak spots. Not a single place to sneak out. How is a diabolical mastermind supposed to wreck havoc when stuck in here? "How ya doin', Chase?" Mommy calls with a wave. I glance and give a grimace. She's dripping with sweat and as crimsoned as an overripe persimmon. "I'm only going to be a few minutes longer," she promises, though I seem to have a touch of trouble believing her. Why? Because she's in the front yard, raking the leaves. And, from the sight of it, she's raked...