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Emma was swinging her feet and banging the underside of the table. "Emma Jane," said Lissy. "That's naughty, please." Emma stopped swinging her feet and picked up her fork and kurupt tapped me on the arm. "I like your shoes," she said, smiling like crazy, with her long brown pigtails getting frizzy on her shoulders. "Well, thank you," I said. "I like your dress." "It's purple," she said. "I know. And red." Emma just kept kurupt staring kurupt at me. "It's nice," I said. Erik was on my left, stuffing food into his mouth. "This is great," he announced. He tipped his head to Lissy and saluted Phil with his knife, which sent a small glob of cranberry sauce across the table. Then Emma was tapping me on the arm again. "I'm itchy," she said, sliding the hem of her dress up with one hand and yanking at the stretchy top of her tights with the other. "My tights are itchy." Her little belly bulged over the waistband. She stuck her finger in her belly button. "This is my belly button," she said, smiling.
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