Katie sits on my lap, both of us on the couch, her arm draped around my shoulder, the afternoon sun reflecting wetly through our front windows off the buildings across the street after a day of rain.
"But the thing was," I continue, "the reason the kid didn't buy her something from the fair wasn't because the salesperson was mean, or that he lost his nerve or whatever. I've been reading this story for literally years and I was just too stupid to know that it was because he didn't have enough money left, even though it basically said so!"
She leans back to look me in the eye, says, "In your defense, you're really bad with money."
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