If I let you touch my stuffy, I don’t hate you.
If I voluntarily hand you my stuffy, I trust you.
If you are sad, upset, or hurt and I give you my stuffy for comfort, I like you.
If I shove my stuffy in your face and tell you to love it, you are pack or closer.
If you touch my stuffy and I go for your throat, either I don’t like you or I don’t know you.
Either way, you touched a cubby’s baby and must be punished.
Cubby =primal little