“Did someone get the number of that truck?” I asked, of no one in particular. “There was no truck, Priestess,” said Mindy solemnly. “You were Asleep. Exceedingly and utterly Asleep. We attempted, in the traditional manner, inserting pencils in your nose, but you did not wake. You merely threw the pencils across the room and muttered.” I would have been mad, but that particular tradition was my fault, triggered during Alex’s “fall asleep doing his homework” phase in high school. I should have known the mice would be watching when I started jamming pencils in my brother’s nose, and more, I
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