It was another day in a long chain of hot summer days spent inside helping her mother cook. Alice was a perfect daughter, or so she continually told herself. Although she didn’t particularly help with the preparation of meals, per se, she did keep her mother company in the kitchen and offered helpful advice as much as possible. Being that Alice herself didn’t do much cooking, the advice was mostly theoretical, but Alice thought it was helpful nonetheless.
Sitting at the large kitchen table with her head in her hands, Alice watched as her mother busied herself with various chopping and seasoning and folding and so on that people do when they cook. Alice wasn’t sure what her mother was making, but it did smell very nice, and the kitchen was very warm, and the chair she was sitting on was so very comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that Alice thought it would be a good idea to take a very short nap. A nap is a lovely thing to have just before dinner because you would be woken up right when it was time to eat!
Alice awoke with a sneeze and was startled by the cloud of white dust that she stirred up.
“Oh my!” she said, waving away the dust and sitting up.
She found that she was no longer sitting in a chair, but rather, she was lying on a large table. Alice was wearing her robin’s egg blue dress with the white apron over it, which was silly because she hadn’t worn that in years. She looked around and found that the dust was actually flour from a massive sack that she had disturbed when she sneezed.
As she rubbed her eyes, she noticed that her surroundings were nothing like her kitchen at all. This new kitchen was an extraordinary one indeed, though Alice was getting a bit used to unusual places. It seemed like the kitchen was one size, that is, it was sized for an average person with a plain white oven and a plain sink and even a plain icebox, but all the food in it was massively oversized.
In the corner next to the table she was sitting on was a burlap sack full of flour that was almost six feet high. She also saw a pile of blueberries in the other corner, each one roughly the size of her head! There were also a few sugar cubes that could have been used a stepping stools, and by the front door was one humongous brown egg, so large it almost blocked the door.
Alice eyed the egg with astonishment as it started to rock and move, and then suddenly, it rolled forward towards her, crushing a small bench in its way. At first, she thought it might be hatching into some monstrous chicken, but it turned out it was only upturned because someone had opened the door it was leaning on.
As the door opened, the room was suddenly filled with noise and commotion. Three people entered, a tall man with a huge white chef’s hat, a younger man and girl both dressed all in white with long aprons.
“We must get to work immediately!” said the chef, who Alice now saw was pulling a red wagon with what looked like a massive mound of butter.
Alice gasped at the sight of them, and all three of them looked at her, sitting on their table, her hair speckled with flour.
“Excellent! The main ingredient is here!” the chef exclaimed and proceeded to park his butter and go to the sink to wash his hands.
“Why… I’m not the main ingredient! Am I? I don’t even know how I got here!” Alice said in a worried voice.
The young man and girl walked over to her and smiled.
“Maybe it’s a dream?” the boy said, and the girl nodded in agreement.
“I’m Millicent, and this is my brother Horatio. I’m afraid you are indeed the main ingredient.” said the girl who was apparently named Millicent. Millicent then took a pair of costume bunny ears out of the pocket of her apron and placed them on Alice’s head.
“We’re making Hasenpfeffer and popovers!” said the chef with delight.
Horatio leaned over to Alice and whispered, “Hasenpfeffer is rabbit stew.”
“But, but I’m not a rabbit!” she wailed, though politely as not to disturb her hosts too much.
Horatio, who was tall and lean with dull black hair, sparkling blue eyes and a smattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks, came up to the side of the table and deftly started untying Alice’s apron. Millicent, who had the same coloring and completion as her brother but was much shorter and had an ample swell under the chest of her cooking uniform, pulled off poor Alice’s shoes and gingerly started making her way up the younger girls legs, pulling at her knee-high white socks.
“What are you doing?” Alice cried!
“Well, we need to clean and prepare the rabbit, silly! We can’t cook clothing, can we? What would our dinner guests think of that?” Horatio explained with a polite smile.
Alice lifted her bottom as Horatio and his sister unbuttoned Alice’s dress and pulled it off. She knew she shouldn’t help them, but she did agree that serving clothes to one’s dinner guests would be dreadfully impolite.
Alice felt very odd now, sitting on the flour speckled table wearing nothing but a ribbon in her hair and her cotton knickers. Her eye met Millicent’s, and the older girl smiled.
“We need to take those off as well.” the dark-haired Millicent said, slipping a finger around the edge of the underclothes and pulling them down Alice’s young firm legs.
The chef came over and looked at the nude girl, appraisingly as if he were looking over someone’s homework.
“Very good, but she’ll have to be washed up, trussed and ready by the time I get the vegetables prepared. I’ll be out back chopping down the carrots.” the chef said, walking over and patting Alice on the thigh. “She’ll be perfect. You can check the cookbook over there for the details. I’ll be back in a half an hour.”
With that, the chef made his way out of the kitchen, sidestepping the giant egg and slamming the door, leaving the eager sous chef siblings to work on their tender morsel.
“Listen, my name is Alice. I’m not a rabbit at all, I’m just a little girl. You can’t be serious about cooking me!” Alice said in a worried but even voice, trying to talk sense into these strange people.
“Of course you’re a rabbit, look at your ears,” Millicent said with her hands on her hips, her brother nodding in agreement.
“Why, you-you just put them on me!” Alice said, not believing her ears, so to speak.
“A likely story. Millicent go and fetch a bucket and washcloth.” Horatio said, giving Alice a stern look.
“That won’t be necessary. I just had my bath last night.” Alice explained, but the siblings both let out a laugh.
Alice pouted and sighed deeply. There seemed to be no way out of this strange culinary predicament.
Horatio stepped closer to her and took her soft blond hair in his hand. He then pulled from his pocket a length of twine and proceeded to pull her hair back and tie it into two neat pigtails so that not one hair fell into her face or onto her shoulders. As he did this, Alice noticed his gaze falling onto the slope of her shoulder and down to her bare chest.
For some reason, the clinical manner and otherworldly nonchalance in which everyone was treating her had made feeling shame about her nudity seem silly, but now with a boy a few years older than her ogling her naked form Alice’s cheeks grew red at once, and her arms came up to cover her breasts.
Horatio smiled knowingly and looked up from her body just in time to take the sopping wet washcloth from his sister.
“Horatio, make sure you wash her well. I’ll look in the cookbook to see what else we should do.” Millicent said, her eyes catching Alice’s for a moment and a smile flashing over Millicent’s lips, which Alice now noticed were neatly painted red.
Alice still sat in roughly the same position that she had woken up in this strange place, but now she sat up a little straighter and covered her chest with her crossed arms and clenched her legs tightly together. She had never been bathed in this manner, and it was quite disconcerting.
Horatio slid the wet, slightly soapy cloth across Alice’s back. Her skin was much paler than his. She shivered beneath his touch. He finished washing off her back and started on her shoulders and arms.
“You’re going to have to uncross your arms. I have to clean your whole body.” Horatio said, pulling Alice’s arms away from her chest.
Her breasts were lovely, pert, and the size of ripe apples. The nipples were large and puffy all around and as pink as her lips, which were as pink as something out of a crayon box. Horatio’s smile faded as he smoothed the washcloth over her collar bones and then lower, across the swell of her breasts. One single pinky slipped off the washcloth and ran across the softness of her skin, the finger slick with water and soap. Alice felt his skin against her sensitive nipple and let out a little yelp.
Millicent looked up from the cookbook and grinned knowingly.
“Now, lay back, Miss Rabbit,” he said, pushing her back until she was lying on the table.
“My, my name is Alice!” she whined, but he hushed her.
“Yes, yes, I suppose even rabbits have names,” he said absently as he washed her flat stomach and paused right above her pubis.
“You, you mustn’t wash.. there!” she pleaded, but before she could do a thing about it the washcloth was dipping down between her thighs, the water now cold after being in the air for so long and it made her whole body shiver as that secret little place was rubbed wet with the cloth. And there was that evil little pinky again, just catching the tinniest feel of the soft light hairs of her sex and then the soft little folds of her secret.
“Oh my!” she whispered, her eyebrows furled in shame and fear.
But before she could say anything more, he was on to her legs, then her knees. After her feet, Millicent came over with a fresh washcloth.
“Flip, I’ll need to do the back of your legs and your bum,” he said gleefully.
“There too?!” she protested, but for some reason, she found herself flipping over on to her back, and then she felt the warm washcloth on the back of her legs, then her thighs and then her bottom. Horatio’s hands squeezing her bottom and pulling the cheeks apart to clean every inch of her, something that made her whole body jump.
Millicent’s voice broke the silence of the room just before Horatio’s wicked little pinky made another appearance.
“It says here we are supposed to tenderize the rabbit, then truss it, then rub it with butter and sprinkle it with rosemary.” all three of them looked into the corner at a colossal bush that Alice realized it was a massive sprig of rosemary.
Alice sat up and faced the sibling, determined to say something. She was going to put an end to this.
Horatio looked at Alice and put his hand on his chin, biting his lip and wondering. “How do we tenderize a rabbit?” he asked his sister.
Millicent looked at the naked girl in front of her, Alice’s cheeks were fiery red, her blond hair up in two pigtails that looked ridiculous next to the two large white, slightly crooked bunny ears. Millicent liked how adorably vulnerable the girl looked and how her face was contorted in some complex mix of confusion, frustration, and fear. Not that Millicent was a mean girl, it was just a point of fact that any range of emotion expressed by this particular blond girl when naked and wearing bunny ears had the effect of looking cute and pathetic.
“Well, I suppose we just massage her and rub her down, loosed her up. Then when she is all tender, we tie her up, butter her up, and we’re done.” Millicent said with a smile.
Horatio agreed, sharing a little smile with his sister, then the sibling each walked to a different end of the ersatz rabbit. Millicent started massaging Alice’s back while her brother moved own and massaged her legs. Alice was frozen, unsure of what to do next. She could just make out the shape of the chef outside with a huge ax cutting down a carrot the size of an oak tree. She knew she should be trying to talk her way out of this, reason with these people in some way, but the pressure on her back and on her calves felt wonderful. It wasn’t until Horatio got to her knees that the shame came flooding back. Alice thought that perhaps after the massage would be the best time to tell them that they should let her go.
Millicent liked the way Alice’s skin felt under her fingers. She smoothed the younger girl’s skin and moved from her back to her shoulders and then down to her collar bone. Alice tightened again, unsure of where she could wiggle out of the grasp. The farther she moved from Millicent, who was inching towards her breasts, the closer she got to Horatio, whose hands were moving closer to her, but he wouldn’t touch her there again, would he?
Before she could protest, Millicent’s hands were cupping young Alice’s breasts, just as Horatio started parting her legs. Alice tried to close her legs, but Horatio was powerful, and the rubbing was very thorough. Horatio rubbed the girl’s inner thigh as Millicent squeezed Alice’s breasts softly and then let her fingers pull and slightly twist the puffy nipples.
Horatio let out a low growl as his fingers came to the very tippy-top of Alice’s thighs. His fingers brushed the little crease between thigh and crotch. He looked at his sister, who was now biting her lip as she pulled and played with Alice’s nipples. All the while, Alice closed her eyes and gently shook her head, not knowing what to do and now suddenly very dizzy and very warm and feeling like she was being tickled from all sides, only she wasn’t laughing at all.
“Her nipples are nothing like mine, Horatio. Look how puffy and pink they are.” Millicent said, squeezing Alice’s breasts so that only the nipples peeked out between her fingers.
Horatio took his eyes off the young girl’s sex and looked up at the display his sister was asking him about.
“Yes, very interesting. Her sex looks different, as well. The rabbit anatomy is truly intriguing,” he said, his voice now lower and a bit huskier. His fingers moved up and traced the outer lips of the girl’s sex. He moved a little closer, leaning against Alice’s now open legs and feeling the young girl’s trembling limbs press absently against the hardness of his arousal.
“Indeed, we should explore a little more before continuing. I mean, it’s always good to know the wonders of the animal kingdom.” Millicent said with a wicked grin that was then mirrored by her brother.
Millicent took off her apron, folded it neatly, and then tossed it in the corner. She repeated the process with her shirt and then smiled as she saw Alice watching her disrobe.
Millicent was much more buxom than Alice. Alice wore plain white brassieres because who would see them but her? Alice watched jealously at Millicent’s lovely candy apple red garment, which cradled her large breasts. Alice watched with curiosity as the older girl reached back and unhooked the catch. Alice was almost unaware of Horatio’s gentle strokes of her sex until she felt his finger slip past the lips of her sex and brushed the most secretest of secret places.
Millicent smiled as she watched Alice’s eyes bulge with surprise at Horatio’s dexterity. The older girl removed her bra and showed that indeed, her breasts and nipples were very different from Alice’s. Millicent’s nipples were a light brown, like the excellent chocolate Alice’s father had brought home from Belgium once.
Alice seemed to be hypnotized by Millicent’s breasts, her eyes unable to look away as the older girl rubbed and squeezed their grapefruit-sized softness. Perhaps Horatio’s eager fingers, now a bit slick for some unknown reason, slowly circling the parts of Alice she had no name for, had something to do with her wrapped attention to the girl cook’s body.
Millicent’s nipples were not puffy all around the aureola the way Alice’s were, they were flat and about the size of a two pence coin with the nipple sticking out hard and thick.
Alice started feeling even warmer and even dizzier as Horatio’s fingers got more and more thorough in their exploration. His finger seemed even wetter as he slipped just the very tip of his pinky into her, and then his other fingers moved up and spread her sex apart, kneading it and then coming back up to circle and tease Alice’s now erect little button.
Millicent moved forward, still caressing one of her breasts and then taking and pinching one of Alice’s nipples.
“See, completely different. Hers are all puffy, and mine stick out more,” she said, clearing her throat first to get her brother’s attention since he seemed very occupied with his tenderizing duties at the moment.
“Indeed, Milly, indeed,” he said, now focusing his rubbing more directly on her little button, which had the effect of making Alice’s eyes roll back a bit and her breath to start a quicker, more labored pace.
Millicent was a bit miffed at her brother’s lack of interest in the anatomical comparison, but she too was now watching the young rabbit.
Alice’s eyes closed and her hips started to raise up against Horatio’s fingers. Alice wasn’t sure what was happening, but it seemed like it was going to happen soon. It was like waiting for a sneeze or perhaps a train.
Just then, the door opened, and the burly form of the chef barreled in.
“No, no, no. That is all wrong!” He shouted. “What the devil are you doing? That’s not the proper way to prepare a rabbit at all!” the chef said, more confused than angry.
Alice let out the oddest little whine. She was glad that the sadistic siblings had stopped their malevolent ministrations, but at the same time, this incessant building had been arrested, in her opinion, a few seconds too soon.
“That’s not how you tenderize a rabbit! And for heaven’s sake, put your shirt on, Millicent!” the chef commanded. “You need to really work her over. None of this lollygagging and timid rubbing. The game must be beaten! Really, you’ll never become chefs at this rate.”
The chef picked up a bigger ax and examined the blade. “I fell a few carrots, but the turnips are simply enormous this year. I may be a while.” And with that, he left the three alone again.
Alice should have been frightened or planning or something, but the only thing she felt was a strange frustration. Horatio’s hand lay on her pubis, and almost unaware of herself, she felt her hips moving up in hopes that he would continue his petting. Millicent put her apron on over her bare chest, which barely covered her breasts and rather provocatively let the dark circles of her nipples peek out from the sides.
Horatio, a bit miffed at being told that he wouldn’t make a good chef, lifted up the nude Alice and flipped her on her belly with no more care than one would give a bag of oats, specifically if one were a person who cared little for oats.
“Oh, dear!” Alice cried.
Millicent fetched a sizeable rolling pin as Horatio got a broad branch of giant rosemary.
“I,” Horatio started as he whipped the young girl hard on her bottom with the lovely smelling but rather painful herb, “will,” again, he swatted her “be,” thwap, “a chef!”
Alice cried out each time, the broad green leaves feeling like tanned leather on her bottom. She cried out even louder when Millicent, with a look of glee, hit Alice’s bottom with the heavy wooden rolling pin.
All three participants in this culinary endeavor were out of breath. The room was silent, save the far off sound of chopping and cursing from the chef and his tough parsnips.
“No, no, no, you stupid git! That’s not the way a rabbit should be hit!” a loud high shriek echoed through the kitchen.
The three looked around the room for where the strange voice came from, but couldn’t find another soul. It wasn’t until a commotion over by the pots and cutlery brought their attention to a counter that they saw the origin of the cacophony. The sound was coming from a very loud-mouthed spoon.
Millicent’s eyebrow rose as she started over to the counter.
“That’s right, your little tart, I’ll show you the tenderizing art! Let me have a go at that trollop. I’ll teach you how to give her a wallop!”
Alice’s eyes grew, if possible, wider. It was indeed the bawdiest piece of cutlery she’d ever met.
Millicent pilled the large wooden stirring spoon out of the large bin it was in with a variety of spatulas and whisks, all of which had much better manners. The spoon danced in her grip and sang out, “Slap me against that tight young butt! Give a proper spanking to that dirty little slut!’
Millicent walked back to her brother with a dazed grin and then hoisted the spoon in the air and did just that. She raised the spoon up, and just as Alice tried to turn her head to protest, the spoon came down on her upturned bottom.
“Oh my!” said Alice as the firm wooden spoon went “thwap” against her round pale-skinned derriere.
“Don’t stop until that little whore’s ass is nice and red! Then put her on her knees and make her give you head!”
Millicent was smiling wickedly, because to be honest, she was a bit of a wicked girl. She brought the big wooden spoon down on the younger girl’s bottom over and over again, each time the kitchen echoed with a satisfying smack followed by Alice’s yelp of pain and the talking spoons groan of pleasure. Millicent silently shivered at the sounds of the girl’s whimpers and loved the way the spoon left first a white mark on the girl’s bottom that quickly turned a deep red. She also very much enjoyed the way the girl tried to twist this way and that, trying to get away from the punishment, her bottom was receiving, causing Horatio to hold her down harder and harder.
“Beat that little bitch, whip that little runt!” the spoon shouted loudly, sounding a bit hysterical. “Then you can turn me around and shove my handle in her tight little-“
“Milly,” said Horatio, grabbing his sister’s wrist before she could land another blow on Alice’s now bright red and throbbing bottom. “I think that’s quite enough.”
Millicent was breathing very hard, and her eyes were glazed over with pleasure. She was shaken from her exertion and the thrill she was getting from spanking the little blond captive.
“You don’t want to over tenderize the poor thing. Look, she’s crying.” Horatio said, but more with a sort of malicious curiosity than concern of any kind.
Millicent pouted and cut her eyes at her brother. He tried to contain a smile as his sister put down the talking spoon and folded her arms under her breasts.
“She’s not crying very much. Just sort of tearing up.” Millicent said, batting her eyes a bit at her brother and putting one hand on Alice’s sore bottom.
“Oh! It’s so warm! Feel it, Horatio.”
Horatio smiled as his hand moved across the hot skin.
“Lovely, we’d better truss her and season her.”
Millicent fetched a ball of twine from a cupboard and brought it to Horatio, who had removed his hand from atop the young girl’s hungry body.
Millicent proceeded to roughly pull the girl into a sitting position again, and Horatio stood behind Alice and stretched her arms behind her back. He then wrapped the twine from one of her forearms to the other, crisscrossing the twine, so it looked almost like a shoelace. He tied it at her elbows and stepped back to look at his handiwork.
Alice’s face was painted with two circles of crimson blush, not from makeup but from shame and exertion. Her pert breasts were a bit red as well and stood high and proud now that her arms were pulled back behind her.
Horatio then pushed her back in a most awkward position so that her bound arms were on the table and her legs were folded under her thighs. He tied each leg, binding calf to thigh so that she wiggled on the table, looking like something between a pot roast and a coffee table.
Millicent covered her mouth as she giggled, she then picked up the cookbook the chef had left them and looked over the instructions.
“The book says we should get rid of any remaining fur.” Millicent read before retrieving a bright silver razor.
“You mean on her head?” Horatio asked, tugging on the now much less mobile Alice.
Millicent rolled her eyes, as she was often wont to do. “No, they don’t eat the head, silly. Down there,” she explained, pointing to the small patch of blond hair between the bound girl’s legs.
Millicent handed the razor to her brother and went to the sink to fetch a small brush and a bit of soap.
“You-you mustn’t shave there!” Alice pleaded. “There’s hardly any hair there anyway. I’m sure it won’t be a bother-“
Millicent twirled the wet brush in the soap and looked down at the little patch of sparse blond hair. She brushed some sudsy foam onto the patch until the whole area was coated.
“Nonsense, what would the guests think?” Millicent said, chiding the younger girl.
Alice held her breath as Horatio opened the large straight razor.
Horatio’s hand was steady, and he worked quickly. A few smooth strokes of the razor and he smiled at his work. Her sex was neat and bare, though it was a little red. He got a damp cloth and washed off the remaining soap.
“I don’t think she hated it that much-oh my,” Millicent smiled slyly as she watched her brother’s fingers slip up and down the girl’s freshly shorn bits.
“She’s awfully wet… my she seemed to like that paddling quite well indeed. Dear sister, you have to feel this, it’s so amazingly soaked.”
Alice’s body was racked with shame and pleasure. The two emotions had become inseparable in the last few minutes, and now she wasn’t sure where one started, and the other ended. She didn’t know why her body was reacting the way it was. She should have been doing everything she could to escape, but at that moment, the feeling of Horatio’s rough fingers probing her most intimate of spots was heavenly. Then when Millicent’s fingers joined her bother’s, the faux rabbit gasped loudly. Two sets of digits pulled her bits open as another finger slipped into her.
Alice couldn’t move, couldn’t get away from those prying fingers, and couldn’t cover up her aching breasts and wet sex. She couldn’t do anything but be examined, used, bound, beaten, and seasoned.
As Horatio’s finger moved in and out of her, his thumb finding the little button that would make the girl’s other senses dull, Alice was dimply away of coolness on her shoulders. Millicent had taken handfuls of the rich butter and started spreading it on Alice’s body. Around her neck and over her chest and up the length of her bound arms.
Horatio looked down at the glistening pink and red skin of the writhing bunny. He watched as his sister spread thick oily butter over the blond’s breasts, molding and teasing the skin. Horatio watched as he let his finger slip deeper into the bound girl, his finger turning in the warm wetness of her. He felt her body tighten with every thrust of his finger and then listened to her squeal as he added another finger.
Alice’s mind was gone now. The universe was made up of thick fingers inside of her, hot hands spreading silkiness over her breasts and the taut cords restricting her every motion. Then another finger, stretching her impossibly tighter. Her hips now slick with butter as Horatio’s hand moved faster.
Alice felt something building, like rushing water inside of her, like rushing water rising against a dam, almost bursting. She let out a low moan. A long stretched note. The fingers felt like they were pushing her over a cliff.
“Excellent!” said a loud voice from behind them all.
Horatio pulled his hand away, and as Alice shouted, Millicent popped a large apple-sized cranberry into Alice’s mouth.
The chef came in, pushing a wheelbarrow of tire sized slices of root vegetables. He walked over to the three and appraised the rabbit.
“Trussed perfectly! Soft and tender! A generous patina of fine French butter!” he checked off his mental list with glee, then he took a pepper mill the size of a vacuum cleaner and sprinkled the exasperated girl with black dust.
With that, the chef commanded his staff of two to bring the young girl out back. Awkwardly Millicent and Horatio lifted the now slippery rabbit and carried her out of the kitchen and around the house to the back yard where there was an enormous cast-iron cauldron, twice the size of the chef and almost as tall as the house. There was a low flame under the cauldron and the smell of cooking onions and spices.
The chef piled the carrots and turnips into a large basket, and then the sous chefs deposited Alice on top of the vegetables. Alice was more than frightened now. She was horrified. She finally realized that this could very well be the end. The end of Alice! Instead of a long life full of laughter and love, she would be the main ingredient in a spicy stew of death.
As she shifted back and forth, tossed about the basket with vegetables falling on her, she wondered if anyone would save her. She wondered how Millicent and Horatio could be so cruel after they had been so rapt with her body. Alice wondered a hundred things just to keep her mind off the fact that she could hear bubbling water in the cauldron.
As she got to the lip of the crockery that would be her tomb, she cried out, “No!” as the basket tipped, and the vegetables and makeshift rabbit fell towards hot sizzling deliciously aromatic doom.
Alice fell. Alice fell and fell and fell. Alice thought, “my, this is a large pot.” Then with a sudden and entirely unceremonial thud, she landed. She landed not in a hellish sea of scalding mirepoix, but on a familiar tile floor.
“Alice? Oh, you silly girl. Do get up and go wash your hands. Supper is nearly ready!”
Alice sat on the floor, her heart pounding, trying to figure out what had happened.
“It was all a dream…” she realized, panting and trying to make sense of it all.
She stood up, her legs a bit shaky, and with a dumbfounded look on her face made her way to the washroom to wash up for supper and try and figure out what in the world had happened.
As she walked away from her mother, a bit upset at her lazy daydreaming daughter shook her head at the clumsy messy girl. Why she’d even left a pair of rabbit ears on the kitchen floor.