A friend’s neighborhood yard sale kept me busy for much of the day. In addition to sale stuff- me with all of two items in the bunch- we were crafty as well, offering up a theme of bars and jars for the sole purpose of allowing her 4-year-old son, Damian (a vowel swap away from an infamous kidly killer), the opportunity to play at selling and serving. Each time he received a dollar, he’d walk over to the toy table that housed an array of items he was meant to give away. Upon careful selection, he’d head over to his mom, item in hand, to pay his dollar. Five minutes later, he’d inevitably call out, "Mom, you got my dollar still?" Ah, selective memory.