A precious little girl walks
into a pet
shop and asks in the sweetest
little lisp, "Excuthe me, mithter, do
you keep widdle wabbits?"
As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he
gets down on his knees, so that
he's on her level, and asks,
"Do you want a widdle white wabby or a thoft and fuwwy bwack wabby
maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabby over there?"
She in turn blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees,
leans forward and says in a quiet voice, "I don't fink my pet
weally gives a thit."