So, I'm in Wal-Mart on Saturday, returning a $6 toaster which (shock!) stopped working after the fourth toast, when an announcement comes over the speaker system:
"We have a misplaced little boy back here in the layaway department. He appears to be about four-years-old and Native American, wearing a red shirt and blue jeans."
A Navajo lady nearby turned to one of her teenaged children, sighed and said, "Sounds like your father's lost again."
You could move to Montana.
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