A Holiday Of Some Kind Just Passed

It involved the really short humans I sometimes see in the elevator with their Mamas and Papas.  Except they didn't quite look like themselves.  It definitely smelled like them though . . . soap, dirt, and crayons. 

They kept knocking on the door when I was working on my siesta.  They seemed to want something from me but I'm not quite sure what.  It got a bit tiresome after a while, so I texted my Mama while she was working:

Don't worry, I ran off the weird, short people.  They won't be back again. You're welcome.

 For some reason, Mama did not appreciate my efforts.