Wilson has written a prescription for Billi's spectacles and Uncle Zoltan has typed a note explaining why the specs are required in such a small size.
Now Wilson has accompanied Polly and Billi round to the post box to help them send Billi's script to a mail-order glasses supplier.
Normally the bees would have flown round there, carrying the envelope between them, and popped the envelope into the slot... but I'm afraid they've piled on a few grammes over Xmas and now neither of them can actually get off the ground.
I'm sorry to say, I do know how they feel...
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