Russell had been kneading the plasticine for about five minutes, and now it was good and malleable. He took a bite of his pumpernickel and butter, a sip of coffee, and started to make the model of the groundhog he had promised his daughter. The next day was going to be Groundhog Day, and she wanted to recreate it in the back garden. It should be more interesting than their normal weekends, which usually involved watching TV and going to McDonalds. Thankfully, they wouldn’t have the social worker with them as a constant irritancy. He’d got that far at least.
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