I was mad as a mama bear this morning, when I ran out to the garden, only to find that somebody's been eating my pumpkins! How will my garden ever grow with Mr. McGregor's cottontails hopping all about? Cinderella will have no ride to the ball. Peter Peter's wife will be homeless. And, this little piggie will have no pumkins for the market! I guess I can't blame it all on the wild things. It may have been my own, dear chicken little. Maybe this little red hen should just stick to baking bread.
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