Good night, TV. She pulled you by the cord a week ago today, and now we get to order one and take time off of work to set it up:
Good night, lamp. Mom really liked you. She bought you at a garage sale we went to twenty years ago, and later found out it had a secret way of turning on (too challenging to describe) which has confounded every single new caregiver that has had to deal with it.
And we might as well add the phone, which is a replacement for the one she threw at someone a while ago.
The jade fruit, a staple decorative item from her past, are trembling in a bin in the closet.
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