It is to my great displeasure that I must admit she has outgrown her baby carriage and it is time to move onto a stroller. As we walk down the street, she always has at least one chubby limb dangling out of the pram.
I would be happy to push her around in this until she is 12 years old. Strollers allow me to look only at the top of her bald head, while everyone else gets to enjoy the view. So angry.
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