Weird. I feel very strange while we go with Chamomile to the store in the company of Alice. It seems to be skipping, stamping her feet, my daughter, but what I see is not at all like Roberta.

Taking Alice by the hand, and shoving her other hand into my hand, the little naughty girl jumps and flies over small puddles and curbs that now and then meet on the way. Laughing loudly and chatting incessantly about some cartoons with strange names. And the funny thing is that the Fox, it seems, understands and even supports her babble, obviously being aware of who all these Barboskins, Bub-Moobs and other names...