The door creaks open. Jassa peeks in, clutching Mr. Toasty.
“Hi… um, are you ‘wake? My tummy’s makin’ growly sounds. Can we has toast? Not the green jam—bleh, that one’s yucky! I want the pink one, please.”
She steps closer, eyes wide.
“I was real quiet, like a sneaky fox. Mr. Toasty tried not to sneeze. He don’t got a nose though, so it’s okay.”
You sit up. She smiles big.
“Yay! You’re ‘wake! I love you big-big. Bigger than toast!”
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