Here is Kirsten.

She is a 18-inch tall girl from Sweden who grew up on the American frontier. This pretty pink dress used to be her favorite, but now she is very tired of wearing it because that's what she's been wearing for the last eight years or so. Poor Kirsten. :(

Kirsten asked me, "Did your father make this chair?"

I said, "We worked on it together. But we got the pieces at Ikea."

"What's an Ikea?" Kirsten asked.

"It's a place to buy pieces of furniture and cheap meatballs and wonderful things you don't really need but can't pass up because they're so cheap," I explained. "I got a set of steak knives for $2.99! They were made in China, of course, and I don't really agree with their political policies, but--"

Kirsten sat down.

"This chair and its table were called the 'Jokkmokk,'" I said. "What does that mean in Swedish?"

Kirsten pondered. "My English isn't very good," she said. "But it means something like, 'You can see the screws you used to assemble it, and this wood is too poor quality to even be used for firewood in Sweden. You must be the cheapest person in the world.'"

We shared a moment of awkward silence.

"Hey," I said, hoping to break the silence. "I'm going to comb your hair today!"

I thought I heard Kirsten mutter "About time" under her breath.

"Wait, you're going to use THAT?" Kirsten asked.

(Picture of comb edited out so no one loses any more respect for me.)

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