Twas the 4th and I singed the ties that bind. There’s not much I can say, you see I’m a mom, and a dragon mom to boot. Yes of course that’s a mimsy excuse, I could have been nicer, more circumvent, less galumphing. If it had been about me, I might have burbled for a bit and let it go; I’m lazy like that, and prefer everything beamish. Unfortunately, when one interferes with a dragons offspring they must beware the jaws that bite, the claws that catch, and the flames that will ensue. So next time, and there will always be a next time with me, I will just have to remember to go outside and gyre and gimble in the wabe until I slay my frumious temper. I suppose if that doesn’t work I can always climb into one of the holes all that spinning will create and reside with the Tove, it shouldn’t be so bad, I so do like cheese.