Mama’s head is comfy cozy.
Wanna be friends? I swear I won’t bite… okay. I might bite a little bit.
Guess who’s about to sheee-eed?
Now really, Irene. This is just getting sad. You’re too fat for that birdhouse.
Believe in your dreams.
Trying SO hard to get comfy!
(Ignore the tail shed; our humidity levels were on the fritz and have since been mended.)
Why are you looking at Pinterest when you could be looking at me?
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