When I was a kid, my grandparents had a basement full of awesome stuff. Tons of cool dress-up clothes, jewelry and wigs, toys and books, and a plush fried egg (by the way, Grandma, don't throw that thing out in your basement organizing extravaganza because it is apparently very rare and worth A LOT). Oh, and who can forget that dusty old bottle of Zima. I'm pretty sure that's still there, actually, unless one of my cousins finally gave in to The Dare. Anyway, I don't know what it was about that egg, but my cousins and siblings and I couldn't get enough of that thing. I mean, I wouldn't necessarily have ever spent one-hundred and ten dollars on it or anything, but we did really enjoy that egg. So when I was flipping through the Ikea catalog a while back and saw these adorable plush veggies, I began awaiting the day when Jamie would be old enough to play with them. And today was that day. He hasn't seen them yet and I can't wait to show them to him when he gets up tomorrow. He'd better handle them with kid gloves, though, 'cause in thirty-five years, taking into account inflation, these could be worth millions.
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