Today I remembered a conversation George and I had when he was still two. We have great chats going along in the car, and on this occasion we were heading home in a cloudy twilight. George told me the following tale:
G: The moon is came down once, through the clouds.
M: Did it?
G: Yes, it went on the roof of the car and came to George's house.
M: What did the moon do at George's house?
G: Had pizza and coke. It was wearing boots and buttons.
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