Let Them Fight

The squirrels are particularly assertive in their demands for treats as I sit on my park bench and eat lunch today, and they only retreat after I repeatedly, but politely, insist that my peanut butter and jelly sandwich is not for them. 

Then comes the toddler, rolling across the plaza like a miniature kaiju, roaring out his miniature toddler roar, chasing the nonplussed squirrels past the line of benches to the trees beyond, while his father, following at respectful distance, notices me watching.

“A squirrel scared him the other day,” he explains in a soft Caribbean accent, “so now he thinks his yell chases them away.”

“I mean, he might be right,” I say admiringly, as the toddler circles a tree while a squirrel looks down at him in confusion from its branches.