It's cold. Damn cold.
The heating is on. Still chilly.
Fire is blazing away - logs and coal. Nippy, nonetheless.
I've covered my two-year-old, asleep in her wee bed, in about three soft covers, and her quilt.
Yet she'll probably wake later in an effort to snuffle in somewhere she deems cosier. Namely our bed. Still, can't blame her
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