Nearly trod on a baby yesterday. I shook hands with a mate and didn't realise his newborn was lying there on the floor between us. I pulled out a chair, sat down, and still didn't see it.
"How's the baby?" I said.
"Oh, you know. Surviving - despite you and your size twelves."
Gave me a bit of a shock when I finally spotted the little fellow. I did feel that it wouldn't have been entirely my fault if I'd squashed young Isaac, though. He was dressed in blue and lying on a blue rug. I thought he was just part of the pattern.
That's thing about little people. They're very good at blending into the background.