"Lord, yes. Tomorrow it'll be geometrical jacks and motorized
hopscotch. Were we this bad when we were kids in '48?"
"Worse. Japs and Nazis. Don't know how my parents put up with me.
Tomboy."
"Parents learn to shut their ears."
A silence.
"What's wrong, Mary?" asked Helen.
Mrs. Morris' eyes were half-closed; her tongue slid slowly,
thoughtfully over her lower lip. "Eh," She jerked. "Oh, nothing. Just
thought about _that_. Shutting ears and such. Never mind. Where were
we?"
"My boy Tim's got a crush on some guy named--_Drill_, I think it was."
"Must be a new password. Mink likes him, too."
"Didn't know it got as far as New York. Word of mouth, I imagine. Looks
like a scrap drive. I talked to Josephine and she said her kids--that's
in Boston--are wild on this new game. It's sweeping the country."
At this moment, Mink trotted into the kitchen to gulp a glass of water.
Mrs. Morris turned. "How're things going?"
"Almost finished," said Mink.
"Swell," said Mrs. Morris. "What's _that_?"
"A yo-yo," said Mink. "Watch."