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silverfoxxComment by K3Master: In the dead of the night they come. The wee ones, in their pointed caps and painted eyes, giggles as they leap and dance, giggles that seem to come from nowhere, and everywhere.
In the dead of the night they come, and they flit from shadow to shadow, and they consume of the crumbs on the floor, and they unravel your socks, and they hide your keys, and they make a merry mischief everywhere they go.
In the dead of the night they come, and they color on your walls with crayons and tangle the hair of your dog, and pour soap in your vents, and in the morning you blame it on your child.
In the dead of the night they come, and at dawn's first light, those giggles, the ones that have penetrated your dreams and made your sleep uneasy, those giggles cease and they disappear back into the holes and shadows from which they came, and you look all over the house for your slippers, which you swear were right there by your bed.
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