During lunch with my family today, my mother mentioned that she had found an earring on the floor of Blara’s room. Which actually used to be my room, before it was stolen from me when my sister moved back home last year. In retaliation, I placed a hex on it, and now it’s infested with flying squirrels and mice.
“It was a tiny, small earring,” my mother explained to my sister.
“You’re always snooping around,” my sister said. “You’re like Inspector Gadget of my room.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” I tried to interject.
“At least it’s better than Nurse Ratched,” my mother said. “Which is what she usually calls me.”