Annabella stood tip-toe on the edge of the white wooden stool where it teetered with the early morning stillness, pushed up to the base of the solid front door. With one eye squeezed shut, the other squinted through the small crack just below a peek-a-boo window that the grown-ups used – much too high for Annabella. Her curiosity demanded to know the current status of the robin’s nest, built in the forked branch of the dogwood tree growing close to the small framed house. She had been watching it for weeks. Blue speckled eggs still? She couldn’t quite see…just a little bit higher…eggs? Or…or…CHICKS!
“Chicks, chicks, chicks!” Annabella danced on light toes, excitement threatening her thundering heart. With eyes like mocha saucers, a mouth round like a gumball, she pressed herself and her blue sheep pajamas against the door once again, straining to see. Lifting just..a..little..bit..higher, toes like a ballerina….tippy-tip-tip toes! Almost there…..all the way up on her tippy-tippy toes…almost there. Her neck stretched up like an infant giraffe, with large splotches of color appearing on her olive skin. Her heart pounded and her fingers tips were white from her grip. She thought, “If I could just get a little…bit…higher…” She shifted her left foot, nearly clawing the door to get a better view, willing her toes even higher. Not just tippy-tippy-tip-toes, she wanted super-tip-tippidy-TIPPIDY-TIP-TIP-TOES! But then came a sudden wave of dread and regret, instantly she realized, yet knowing she was too late. The stool toppled forward, rudely breaking the morning calm and Annabella too. She hit the thick, wooden door – hard! Next, landed her bum – thud! – followed by a lonely sense of abandon on the icy Spanish floor.