Mom likes to reminisce. Oh, about anything. I'm not even sure what brought this particular memory to mind, frankly. But it went like this:
Mom: Nicole, do you remember when we lived on Red Maple? There were those two little girls you were friends with and when they moved they left a lot of dolls that we ended up taking.
Me: Yeah, lots of vintage knock-off Barbies.
Mom: Right. And then they went to live in the caboose.
Me: What? [beat] They lived on a train? What?
Mom: No, they moved to Israel...
Me: Kibbutz! Not "caboose."
Mom: Right.
Right. That's what she said.
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