Where were you?” Grandpa’s grip matched the knot in his brow.

“Looking.” Emily gestured toward the exhibits.

“We’ve gone through three floors already. Mostly looking for you.”

“Surgical procedures, blood vessels, eyes in jars.”

“It’s time to go.”

“Can we come back?” Emily quavered.

Grandpa shrugged. “You’re already a scientist.”

I had a hard time stopping at 50 words. I must be content to let your imagination fill in the rest of the story. Please hop over to Rag-tag to see what other writers did with the word lick. My favorite is “Pizza Night.”