“Can we please have a pony?! Pleeeeasse?!” Alana asked hopefully while jumping up and down, as Ms. Newhouse lay in bed scrolling aimlessly through her phone, wiping tears from the side of her face and muttering under her breath, “Can you believe this shit? I can’t believe this shit!," and then agreed to buy a pony by saying, "Wait . . . sorry, honey . . . what did you say? Uh . . . yeah, yeah, totally. Okay fine whatever.”
Sensing an opportunity to strike while the iron was hot, Jake then proposed that Ms. Newhouse send both children to NASA Space Camp in Cape Canaveral, Florida this coming summer. In response, Ms. Newhouse stared blankly into a corner while fantasizing about being placed in a medically-induced intravenous morphine coma, and answered, “Sure, I guess. Wait . . . what? Okay yeah. Sure. That sounds fun.”
At press time, Alana and Jake were using Ms. Newhouse’s Visa credit card and refurbished iPad to finalize the two transactions their mother had so generously authorized. Ms. Newhouse was under fourteen blankets and could not be reached for comment.