Fiddle dee dee, a strange riddle am me! Fiddle dee doo, I’m a compound word that could be a an envy-colored home. Fiddle doo dum, you can grow plants during the winter in these, like plums!

It can fly It can hit It can flirt It can hang

I give your body shape and frame, though I myself feel little pain. Break me once and you will groan, what am I beneath your own?

Houston's favorite space toy without it people will sad and looking up in the sky all day

Some women stuff me to the brim, bursting at the seams, making me some kind of mini-trunk rather than the elegant, small purse I actually am, by all means!