I don't belong here.

Miss C. really needs a fridge in her room. You know, one of those cute little pink and white numbers to match her play kitchen. Then I wouldn't be stuck up here in the sun where I most definitely do not belong. Yogurt and I could hang out on the top shelf. Not that we'd talk to Butter. He's a little too full of himself. All those claims about making everything taste better. You'd think he was Bacon or something.