The princess…and the prisoner

It’s Sunday morning, and our little Pink Princess has come downstairs, decked in her tiara, two pearl necklaces…

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She also is a train that runs up and down the front porch while a brefus of fried eggs is being made:

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Meanwhile, our little victim is trying his best to escape from his Gulag:

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Being able to turn over since last week is the first step in his getaway plans.

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I’m off to visit Cahokia Mounds, now, and leaving this chaos behind for a while!

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