Yoda dog blanketed in a forestFrustrated, I scooped up my phone and told it to call the inquisitive one. The inquisitive one answered on the second ring.

“Hey, it’s Liza,” I said.

“I know,” said the inquisitive one.

“Oh,” I said. “I know.”

“What’s up?” said the inquisitive one. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“Remember when you called me that one day?”

“That day I needed a ride to the race down by the creek, where there’s hardly any parking?”

“No, not that day. I mean the day—”

“That day I realized my basil plants were taking over my entire garden and asked if you wanted some?”

“No, not that day! I mean—”

“That day I was concerned, because people kept mistaking me for you?”

“Yes!” I cried out. “That’s the day I mean!”

“Okay. What about that day? That was a weird day. But I can’t stay on the phone long. I’m trying to figure out how to get a new passport. Mine got kinda wet, and it’s not readable anymore. Not that I’m planning on taking any trips to any foreign countries anytime soon! I’ve had quite enough of that for a very, very long time.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about! People are continuing to confuse the two of us. People keep coming up to me and gently asking me if I’m okay after having lost my passport. But I did not lose my passport! I was afraid of losing my passport, and I tried very hard to keep it safe at all times, while traveling in Europe. And I succeeded in this. No, I did not lose it! In fact, I still have it, here in my possession, in perfect condition!”

That was me,” said the inquisitive one, sadly.

“And the strange thing is, while everyone seems to think I lost my passport, no one seems to think I crossed the Atlantic in a sailboat!”

That was me, too,” said the inquisitive one, even more sadly.

“So what should we do about this?” I demanded. “You keep getting into trouble, and why should I take the blame?”

“Hey, I don’t always get into trouble! Besides, you get into at least as much trouble as I do! And furthermore, Liza, when I do something awesome, you seem to get the credit—not me!”

“Well, you are making some good points. But I still think we should have a serious discussion about how to convince people that we are separate—”

“Maybe later, okay? I really want to get this passport thing sorted out, because later I have to—”

“Hold on a sec,” I said, staring out the window at a giant sinkhole forming in my backyard, which was in the process of swallowing several tomato plants, cages and all.

“I don’t have time to hold on a—”

“Oh my gosh!” I cried out. “There’s a giant sink—”

“A giant sink?” said the inquisitive one, clearly annoyed.

But I did not hear this, for the sinkhole had, in a single roar of a moment, devoured my chicken coop and all my chickens, and my entire back porch, and then my entire house, me included, and as I got sucked deeper and deeper into the muck and gunk, smashed up against my smashed walls and furniture, my final thought was, “Oh no, this sucks—I’ll never be able to blog about this fascinating geological event!”