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"On my tippytoes, floating in the water up to my neck... moving my arms up and down I knew eventually I was going to bump into him and that is exactly what happened," he said.

If I stood on my tippytoes, I could just see into one of the narrow windows.

“Gor, I would like to see that little princess another time, wouldn’t I? And her little pony, too, with his tippytoed feet.”

I tippytoed up the rest of the steps.

She wasn’t standing there on her tippytoes while anxiety ate holes through all her stomachs.