There will be no more baby food. No more mush, no more purees, no more suspiciously orange and bright green jars. No more, I say!
"Bring me a filet, well done, creamed spinach on the side. And what do you have on draft?"
Gentle Sir Philip Sidney, thou knew'st what belong'd to a scholler; thou knew'st what pains, what toil, what travail conduct to perfection.
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