A few days ago, my mother was watching Acorn while I worked.  Minutes after she stepped into the kitchen, she heard Isaac yelling in the living room.  “No!  Off!  Mine!  Off!  OFF!  MINE!  MIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNE!”  So she went to see what was going on, to make sure he and whatever cat was on his stuff didn’t get into a fight that would end badly.

But was it a cat?  Oh, no.  No.  He had hold of one corner of his play rug (the kind with roads and city features, for toy cars) and was pulling as hard as he could, yelling at the two child-sized chairs, one toy airport, one toy garage, and one toy dump truck to “GET!  OFF!  MIIIIIIIIINE!  OFF!  MINE!  MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!”

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