Here is a treehouse in the backyard of an up-and-coming family with extraordinarily small heads and also no mouths.

Good old Papa Flim, sitting with his arms draped over the sides of the good old kiddie pool, lukewarm hose water spilling from the sides and settling on the ground, making mud of the freshly mowed grass, much to Merida’s dismay; Merida who watches from threshold of the sliding glass door, gazing at her husband with a look of anger that looks no different from any other look she could possibly give, her eyes two bottomless black dots and her mouth (again) entirely and utterly absent. The treehouse was built preemptively, for children which have yet to be born. Merida is three weeks pregnant. Life is good, thinks Papa Flim who—in preparation for the upcoming children—had his first name legally changed to ‘Papa’ and his birth-given surname (‘Flen’) replaced by his birth-given first name, (‘Flim’). And, as previously established, this arrangement makes it so that his legal name is Papa Flim. When they are old enough, the children will enjoy their treehouse and kiddie pool so very much, of this the Flim family is very confident indeed.