R U STOOpid?

Two and a half feet tall, just as old and mostly diaper, he fingered the two parts and pinched his face up. In his tiny jeans, and mini work boots, he was quite the little man, so when he tilted his Scooby hat back, and wrinkled his brow, it was hard not to laugh. He squinted in Papas direction, contemplating the potential exchange of words, then he moved towards him with conviction. Handing the segments over, he asked, "Fiss it?"
The denim and plaid beard replied, "Thank you, is this for me?"
"Fiss it....peace?"
"Well thanks, but you keep it...okay?"
The embryonic farmer before him, shifted in frustration, squirming out the words again.
"Papa...fiss it!...peace!"
The old fool smiled over at me oblivious to the quandary. "Why is he giving it to me? What's e want?"
Before the obvious escaped my lips,Haven took another step closer, leaning into his target threw his hands up to hips all crossed up and asked Papa point blank, "R U Stoopid?"

He hasn't changed much since then, 'cept bein' a little taller mebe.

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