A couple of hours ago Mom was down on the floor on all fours pickin' up my cardboard. You know, the cardboard I have strewn all over the carpet from the box of anger? She creeped across the floor, pickin' and pickin' and pickin', muttering things under her breath as she went. I know, because I was under the table, silently stalking her, like a tiger in the jungle. Or at least I thought I was stealthy, til I heard "Milkie if you pounce out and bite me I'm going to knock you into next week." How rude.
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