If you haven't read my post, Dead Mom, two posts ago, this is the sequel--you might want to read that first.
Today I was driving home from Costco, and I again passed the Hatter Exchange.
"Henry, there's the dead mom," I said, sure that I hadn't won the discussion about the mannequin in front of this consignment store.
"Mom," he said confidently, "That's not a dead mom. That's a piece of plastic."
"Who taught you that?" I asked, incredulous that he really had processed what I told him. I don't even remember using the word plastic.
"Oh, I don't know" was his nonchalant answer.
Go figure.
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