Huggig the Memory of a Pink Dress

A somewhat pink dress and a blue apron. I might be mistaken about the colours though. Sorry about that. The thing is, I saw your couch the other day. Your old sofa. Well, not yours, but still a piece of familiar looking furniture. Remember how I could never figure out how you grownups could manage to climing into that thing? Or the point of having a black and white television without any remote control? Then you would have to climb the table, just to change channels. What was the point of that?

Oslo, November 2013

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