“See this, I made it. His name is Cooktopuss.” Chica says this morning at 0612. Small pale white-gray dried clay lay in her hand, small tentacles and I think a hat on top of a bulbous head type thing.
I say, “Cooktopus?” Chica replies, “Yes, he is a octopuss who just LOVES to cook. He is a chef and really good because he has so many hands. Well arms. Well, they are like arms.”