My brother and I got closer during the pandemic by replacing irregular visits (me to him, a two-hour drive) with frequent phone calls. I found him often in a nostalgic mood — and who better to share nostalgic memories with than a brother? In between our conversations he would text me with questions about the particulars: What was that imaginary character’s name? Where in the world prompted our song-and-dance routine, “Mi klosto la looney, mi stompo li mompo?” And which store sold those fabulous spring-action snub-nose revolvers with the white plastic bullets?

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