“Eugenia, you’re must get the kids on board,” Simon said, scurrying along the baseboard and squeezed under the sink.

“I’m trying, but they’re hungry,” said Eugenia.  She rolled her eyes, but Simon missed it. She’d already turned her head toward her nursing litter and nuzzled her runt toward an empty teat.

“We’re never getting out of here, if we don’t take a more systematic approach.” Simon stood on his hind legs and pulled a loose piece of veneer from the corner.  Simone, his first borne, his namesake, clambered onto his back and sank her teeth into a hirer piece of veneer.

“Not like that,” Simon squeeked.  “That just wastes effort.  We need to concentrate on a corner and break through to the other side.” Simone scuttled back to Eugenia’s soft underbelly.

“Getting surly never works with children,” she sighed as she stood up, dropping three babes mid-suckle.  The sound was softer than the noise a dropped stocking makes when it falls off a bed and hits the bedroom’s shag carpet. She nudged, Maggie, Todd, and  Reuter toward the wooded door.

“We’re going to starve if we don’t get out of here,” moaned Simon.  “Why did we come in here? Remind me.”

“You’re scaring the children,” Eugenia whispered.  “Listen.  People are always dropping things. It’s just a matter of time before more food comes.”

Eugenia showed the children how to gnaw only at the bottom, and concentrate on the edges.  “We only need 1/4 inch,” she reminded them once again.

“Simon,” Eugenia said. “I suppose this isn’t a good time to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“I’m pregnant again.”