I Hate Being Tickled

I meant to post this last night, but this is just a short lighthearted and cute story. My nephew Kayson came over last night because we had to watch him. I had finished eating dinner and was taking my dishes to the sink to rinse them and put them in the dishwasher. Kayson was playing with the train on the kitchen floor. Now, this train wasn't the ones like we had when we were children (made of wood or colorful cheap plastic) this train had a little switch to turn it on on the bottom so it'd move around. The train only took one big battery for power, for such a little thing. But he seemed to like putting it along the wooden corner sides of the walls and cabinets since it would change direction or go straight and crash onto the floor. But he put it near where I was at and I didn't know. I could only hear the train's little wheels. But then, ah ha, I felt it passing by my toes, which made me squeal/shriek. He laughed and put the train back over in the direction of my feet. And he did this quite a few times. Until we got him back to playing with the cars and tracks as well.