Lydia just came running up to me doing jazz hands and quick stepping in place like she was about to explode. She was hyperventilating something about their Kirby game.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she gasped, “nothing’s wrong. Just, We did it!”

“Did what?”

“We have the money! We have enough money for Kirby to have a Baby! Kirby is going to have a baby!”

“What?” I grabbed her shoulders and held her still. Her constant running in place was making me nauseous. “Kirby can’t have a baby, Lydia. What does that even mean?”

“He can! He can buy one from the man at the store!”

“What store? Show me.”

She grabbed my hand and dragged me down the stairs. “Kirby CAN have a baby. You can get one from the guy at the furniture store.”

“Oh, that’s right. …babies come from the guy at the furniture store… Okay…”