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"What?!" Lady Banker and I cried in unison.
It took me a moment, but it slowly dawned on me that
living room had fallen to
enemy. "Please excuse me a moment. I think this is
work of foreign cannibals breaking through
basement foundation again." I didn't know if Lady Banker would buy my story, but I figured it would buy me some time while she considered it.
I rushed to
living room, and there was Little Sister, grinning in
full splendor of her 14 months and holding up
handset.
"I was on
phone with Lady Banker, Little Sister. She holds
mortgage to our house, you know."
The look on Little Sister's face said it all: "You think that's your biggest problem?"
I tried a few negotiation tactics, finally trading
handset for a limited edition huggy doll.
I returned to
phone. "The rebels are gaining ground, eh?" Lady Banker asked. I sighed.
It was true. Just yesterday, Little Sister scurried up
back staircase to
second floor. She had been playing right beside me, and I was certain she had just headed in
other direction to where her big sister was holding her mother hostage
living room.
But I had to make sure. I peaked my head around
corner toward
back staircase. Nobody. Then I saw it. Her little blankie lying at
foot of
stairs. I heard a thump above, and Little Sister's lifeless body flashed before my eyes where
blankie lay. I raced to
staircase, up
stairs and around
corner.
There she stood, grinning at me with her "You think that's your biggest problem?" expression again.
The revolution is gaining momentum. They hold
kitchen. They won
living room. Now they have a toehold on
upstairs landing. It won't be long until
toddlers and their imaginary friends have overrun
house and declared it a free country. Bedtimes will be banned and candy will be
national currency.
When they leave home, I'll need more than a five-year cruise to de-stress. Maybe ten years will be enough.
