Oh And Underwear, Of Course
Irreplacable

I Just Live Here

Caroline's friend has a Russian nesting doll which Caroline coveted. Mightily. So much so that after a great deal of contemplation (for Caroline. let's say about fifteen minutes) and soul searching (another five) Caroline made the decision to spend her entire life's savings on a matryoshka of her own. 

"In teal," she specified after googling her way onto Amazon.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"I am as certain as I have ever been of anything before in my whole life," she vowed and you know what? This is probably true.

So she went to the secret recesses of her closet and returned with $16.40, which she gave to me. I duly placed the order and - after traveling on what I can only assume was the literal slow boat from China - it finally arrived yesterday.

[Side note: it's huge. Which is unfortunate because Caroline has spent the weeks leading up to this turning a cardboard box into a matryoshka condo, complete with duct tape wallpaper.

Edward, ever tactful, looked at the doll as it emerged from its wrapping and immediately said, "That's never going to fit in the house you made. Never."]

Today Patrick watched as Caroline carried her doll from room to room and then said, "Hey, Caroline. Now that you have a Russian doll, you need to collect one from every country." 

Edward looked up from his kindle, intrigued by this concept, "Would she get one from Ukraine?"

"Sure."

Edward smiled like he does when he is about to make a science joke, "It can be made out of... Ukranium!"

"Ah," said Patrick, "Ukranium. The world's most politically unstable element."

 

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