A little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp:
“Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep wittle wabbits?”
And the shopkeeper gets down on his knees, So that he’s on her level, and asks:
“Do you want a wittle white wabby or a soft and fuwwy bwack wabby or maybe one like that cute wittle bwown wabby over there?”
The little girl puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice:
“I don’t fink my pyfon really give ths a thit.”
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