Jenny

Not Jenny, the cousin, Jenny the neighbor.

We thought she had everything. She had all the things we could ever want.

We were especially envious of all of the Barbie clothes. All of the Barbie houses. All the Barbie stuff.

But we didn’t like her. Why? Who knows. But we didn’t. OK,

“I’ll be the lookout, and you go get the stuff.”

“OK. If someone comes home, I’ll do something. Go through the side gate, Jenny said it’s always open. Then go into the garage and into the house.”

“Will the door be open?”

“Yes, and the doors are always open. Remember when we were talking about whether or not our families locked doors? Get good Ken, three good Barbies, and the Corvette and some clothes. Then we can go back to my house. OK? Go.”

“Oh no. Red alert. Red alert.”

“Let’s go Jenny‘s. Mom is here!’

“Hi, I… we were just getting some Barbie stuff. Jenny told us we could come in to get some stuff whenever we wanted.”

“Tell Jenny to come over when she gets home. Yeah, to Gabby‘s house.”

“Or we can just Bring the stuff back tomorrow?? Yes. Thank you.”

“No, I think we got everything. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Bye. And thank you.”

Thou shall not steal.