Goldilocks and the Three Americans
Once upon a time, there was a family of the smallest of sizes, but perfectly intentioned, who lived in a neighborhood-
“That’s not how it goes, Dad!”
“I’m not telling the story we read, A-; I am answering your question about the noises the cameras make.”
“Oh.”
-Whenever these smallest of sizes, but perfectly intentioned, families went out from their house—whether to school or stores or restaurants—they worried about yellow-haired girls who they had heard about when they were children-
“Goldilocks has yellow hair!”
“That’s right, A-. That’s who the noises are supposed to scare aware. You see, Goldilocks is supposed to think, ‘I don’t want to deal with whatever those bears are up to. So I’ll find a house without cameras.’”
“This house doesn’t have cameras!”
“Good eyes, A-. That’s right. If I were Goldilocks, I’d try that house first.”
“You’re not Goldilocks!”
“I know. I’m just answering your question.”
“Oh.”
“You know, A-. I don’t mind sharing with you that besides adding talking cameras to the cornucopian display of my opulent wealth, that story is why I don’t trust any Yellow-Haired women.”
“Look, Daddy!”
“Okay! What? I see a truck.”
“Goldilocks is in that truck!”
“That’s right. I didn’t finish the story.”
-And no one ever saw Goldilocks ever again. But sometimes, when the light is just right, you can see Yellow-Haired women driving white trucks. So if ever on your camera screen you see a white truck in your driveway…hide your porridge!