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Dinosaue Dreams (1986) by Suzanne Camp-Crosby
When my nephew was three, Dynosaur seemed to be his only word. So I took him to a dynasaur show where they were actual size and moved. As soon as we entered the exhibition space he screamed bloody murder to get out of there. Thank god he was in an unbrella stroller. All that long trip for nothing. Imagine what his dreams must have been like.