A ybab did not care to sleep, so we tried to go for a walk. It’s jeezly cold out, and the wind is whipping along the river. Old ladies glared at me for daring to take a ybab out. She was wrapped in a snug blanket, and she was wearing her silliest hat.

I was not wearing a hat. I also don’t own a winter coat. Mr. H got putty on it last year. The coat drive would not even take it. I can’t go try on clothes with a ybab because she hates and hates and hates. So I wrap myself in newspaper. I am turning into my mother. We can’t have nice things.

On the way back in, we checked the mail. We received several pieces of junk mail and a bank statement.