Teddy yanks Ollie’s arm like it’s an old school slot machine handle. Teddy positions his face 1/8 inch from Ollie’s, saying, “Ollie! Ollie! Ollie! Ollie! Ollie!” Teddy piles his little cars on Ollie in hopes he will play. Ollis is his baby. Not yours. Not mine. Certainly not Ryley’s.
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