I can see that. A plate of brownies told me a limerick.
It was your mother's idea. She didn't want you to know your real father... because it hurt her so much when he left. I didn't wanna go along with it. But then she died and it was harder to argue with her. Not impossible, but harder.
— Is this, uh, mistletoe?
— No, uh, that... That is basil.
— Yeah. If it was mistletoe, I was gonna kiss you.
— No, it's still basil.
— Look, if it gets a little warm... it can be a theme party.
— Here's a theme: "Come on in, live like bacon!"
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