It's been cold and dark and, well, dank, down in their molehill. Baby Mole is too young to remember the warm days of spring.
One fine morning in March a breeze from above wafts through the burrow. "Do you smell that?" cries Mr. Mole as he scurries up the narrow tunnel to the entrance to the burrow.
"I do!" replies Mrs. Mole, and follows him so quickly that she and Mr. Mole become wedged at the opening to their home.
Baby Mole follows,but there is no room for him to poke his head out of the hole.
"Oh, just smell that, it's finally spring!" calls Daddy.
"Oh, yes, there is nothing that smells this sweet!" replies Mama. "Can you smell it Baby?!"
"No" replies Baby Mole. "All I can smell is molasses."
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