Scott decides that despite the smell, he's best off climbing up the cleats; he can always get down from them quickly, too. Carefully, he works his way along the shoelace, itself wider than a sidewalk. He swallows hard as he works his way up the side of the cleat; he has no idea how big he is, but it's clearly tiny. Even the kids will be thousands of feet tall compared to him.
Presently, he comes to the top of the shoe. He walks out onto the tongue, amazed that it doesn't even move with his weight.
Now he can get a better view. Okay, not much better, but still, he's able to see a few more pairs of shoes, and the first pair tells him something almost immediately. A pair of pink ballet flats sits beyond the smaller sneakers; though his small perspective makes it difficult, they certainly seem to be about the same size as the cleats. Okay, so a girl in her tweens or teens, cool, that's good to know -- though goodness, she needs to wash her feet once in a while.
Scott still can't get a read on the gender of the other child -- the smaller shoes he sees are all reasonably unisex. The girl, however, appears to be an athlete -- he can see a pair of basketball shoes that almost have to be hers. And beyond those, more pumps and heels for mom, and a couple pairs of sneakers for dad.
Scott sighs. Okay, at least he has a little bit of an idea of what this family looks like; he's not sure what he'll do with the information, but it's good to know. He starts to move off the tongue of the shoe when disaster strikes.
A booming slam announces that someone has entered the house. Scot freezes on instinct, but that doesn't do him any good. The footsteps of the person shake the ground, and vibrate the tongue of the shoe just a tiny bit. But to the ant-sized human on it, it's like a massive earthquake. Scott tries and fails to hang on, and before he knows it, he's in freefall.
He lands on a cushioned surface, and immediately coughs at the stench; he's fallen into the girl's cleat! More ominously, the sound of footsteps has stopped.