As a child books were my best friends. I found fairytales magical often horrifying, and even nursery rhymes had a darkside. I can remember being read to as a wee child by my grandmother from my favorite book. It was a tall cardboard version of Mother Goose. Poor Humpty, all we ever knew about him is that the kings horses and men or perhaps the king himself cares about him very deeply. That, and of course the terms of his terrible demise.
Katinkabelle 
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