In the hospital, Mom poses an important question: why did Stan step on the crack?
She pulls one of her three false teeth and reprimands, “Gain a child, looth a tooth!”
“I saw you trip over the garden hose,” Stan says. Also, they live in Indiana—the land of karst. They’re all technically walking around on one giant crack. But this wasn’t any way to speak to Mom, especially when she’s fractured two vertebrae.
“Ahem,” Dad says. “Hose doesn’t rhyme with back.”
“What’th with that nathty knot?” Mom says, pointing to Betsy’s forehead. When Betsy furrows, her eyes uncross like she’s rewinding to her childhood na-na na-na boo-booings. “Your eyes are going to stick that way,” Mom used to ahem. Then they did.
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