"I wish you'd shrink to the size of my thumb," Mr. Laird said, his voice cold and hard.
"Dad, nooooo," Matthew yelled, his squeaky voice rising even higher in pitch as he started shrinking." He wanted to run but he knew there was no escaping the magic. In less than a second he was no bigger than his father's thumb. He looked this way and that for some place he could hide, but where could he run on his tiny legs? He was just a fraction of an inch tall now, no bigger than a flea.
Mr. Laird walked up and loomed over his miniscule son and bent down to pick him up