For all of Franklin LaZoop’s life, people treated him like he belonged in a zoo. They stared. They ooed. They awed. And sometimes they gasped.
“I heard his arms can stretch to top of the house,” Mrs Mauve said to Mr Jones.
”I heard his neck can grow to see over the fence,” Mr Jones said to Mrs Mauve.
“I heard his legs can sprout like a bean stalk,” Mrs Mauve said to Mr Houston.
”Well I heard his head can reach infinity,” Mr Houston said to Mrs Mauve.
His mother, Ms Ellis LaZoop frankly didn’t know what to do about people talking about her son.
”People are people, wherever you go,” she’d say.
So she started to gift her son miniature giraffes, some no taller than two inches high. He’d line them up on a fireplace mantel, no matter where he lived. Perchance you find one in a city park beneath a tall tree, please know: Franklin Was There.