So the Golden Weasel and the Brawn are in the patio, where they've discovered an entire bin of old junk. (Needless to say, their mother, who has tossed all this stuff in the bin, is sequestered away, working diligently.)
"Oh!" the Golden Weasel shouts, having obviously just unearthed some priceless treasure.
She scampers up to the living room and shows me the rare gem: a Baby Einstein giveaway. It's like a birthday card of sorts—which, I guess, it is, having undoubtedly been given to each new mother whilst in the hospital—printed on really heavy cardstock.
"And look!" the Weasel says happily, opening the card for what seems to be the first time ever. "The CD is still inside!"
"Well," I say, "that would certainly explain all of you."
She laughs, then yells, "hey!"
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