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Thinking Dinosaur

I have a dinosaur.

 

His name is Trevor, but my dad calls him Steve. I haven’t a clue why.

 

He’s much like a support animal.

 

He’s my thinking dinosaur.

 

I managed to get through a nation-wide exam (NAPLAN, anyone?) with him on my desk.

 

I am a bit of a rebel sometimes. What with my illegal dinosaurs.

 

Funnily enough, he made the exam somewhat less awful.

 

Tiny plastic dinosaurs can do that, apparently.

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