"Hey Dad", yelled the boy. "Look at this! It's a human hand!"
"No son," I replied. "It's from a raccoon."
"Why does it look just like my hand?" asked the boy.
"Because your grandfather was a raccoon," I said.
"Wow, that probably explains why I can't resist the urge to dig around in the neighbour's garbage."
"What?!"
"Nothing."
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