We turned a corner, and—oh, yes, that’s right—we were at the intersection where Bones had nearly collided with the donut truck. We rolled to a stop at the red light, and Bones leaned across me, squashing me against the back of the seat, and stuck his head out the window. 

“Look at that,” he said, pointing a few feet across the road. “There’s still a few donuts up against the curb over there. Cool!” 

From the bed of the truck, G jumped out and gently picked up one of the powdered donuts in her mouth. 

“G,” Yogi yelled, his head stuck out the driver’s-side window. “Get back in this truck! You’re going to spoil your dinner if you eat all that sugar.” 

G ran back across the street, jumped gracefully back into the bed of the truck, leaned through the back window, and dropped the donut in my lap. 

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