I'm not sure when this happened, but Mom apparently trapped a little boy (about my size, but a little skinnier) in the trash can. When I spotted him today, I tried to play with him. He gave me five, smiled, and mostly copied whatever
I was doing. Imitation is the best form of flattery, right? Mom didn't mind me having my new friend over until I tried to lick him. Mom put a stop to that and started mumbling something about needing to clean the trash can. Or maybe it was something about not releasing General Zod from the Phantom Zone. One of those two.
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