She lived in a little flat on Montague Street with her Brooklyn Holbsmouse. Together they ate bagels every day. They were blissfully happy, the Brooklyn Flea, her Holbsmouse, and their Pancricket.
Then one day her Brooklyn Holbsmouse got this crazy idea to go to law school, so they up and moved to Idaho.
And while that little Brooklyn Flea loved Idaho with all of her heart, she desperately wished she could go back to her little Brooklyn flat, walk her dirty Brooklyn streets, and maybe (if she was good), go to her favorite Brooklyn deli for a plain bagel with tomato and cream cheese, please.
Then one weekend, her Holbsmouse packed her up in the car and whisked her away to the real Brooklyn Flea.
They had their first Egg Cream there. (It wasn't very good.)
I tried to narrate the babies' conversation, like this:
"Hi, I have a thing for boys with red hair, and I think you're cute."
"I don't have red hair! My hair is strawberry blonde!"