“More lights from the aggatt.”

“More lights from the aggatt.”

“What?”

We were driving through the neighborhood looking at Christmas lights.

“We need more lights from the aggatt,” you said again.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you said,” I replied.

When we got inside, I asked again, “what did you say in the car?”

I watched you think, a forgotten cracker still clutched in your little hand.

Slowly and carefully, you said, “The… aggate.”

I shook my head.

“Come,” you said, as you turned and walked away.

I followed you up the stairs and you pointed at the ceiling.

“The… aggate.”

You were pointing at the attic.

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