“Aint Looooo-ri. Aint Loooooo-ri.”

I slowly opened my eyes. I was somewhere familiar; I just couldn’t remember where. Baseball greats stared down from the walls. The huge white eyes of plastic bendable animated characters peered over me. I turned over. There stood my six year old nephew, blue eyes widened, ready for me to wake up.

“What is it, honey?” I mumbled.
“Aint Looooooooo-ri. You have to wake up,” he pleaded.

“Okay, dear, I’m getting up. Is everything okay?”
“Noooooooooo. You’re missing the pigs in a blanket.”

“Pigs in a blanket? For breakfast? You are indeed correct. I MUST get up now. Thank you, sweetie.”