“Well, I’ve decided I want Bluntycups to read me my new Isabella FrouFrou book tonight,” she sniffed. “In full costume.” Baltasar paled, and I barked a laugh before coming to his rescue. “That won’t be possible, sweetie. Blunty spilled some… milk on the dad tutu, so we need to wash it before he wears it again.” Because he will be wearing it again.
