FoiledI called Gloria on the phone.
"I was wheeling the garbage bin out to the curb, and I heard a sound," I said. "It sounded like music."
"So I kept wheeling, and I heard it again," I said. "So I opened the lid, and do you know what I heard?"
Gloria started to laugh.
"Pa-la-la-la-Polly!" I said. "THAT'S what I heard!"
"Oh, no," she said, laughing. "I knew you'd find that."
"So you tried to throw out Polly Pocket Groove 'N Dance Disco," I said. That was the little toy that you could wind up and it would start playing the Polly Pocket song, which, by law, required us all to start dancing.
"It was broken," she said. She lied. ALL LIES.
"This continues a disturbing pattern that began with Little Chemo Bear and continued with the Headless Christmas Reindeer," I said. "I'm going to wake up in a trash bin some morning." She laughed.
"Do you know what we'll be doing tonight?" I asked.
"What?" she asked.
"Dancing," I said. "You have been foiled."