“I will present you with your present presently,” said Miranda, accidentally exposing the eccentricities of the English language. Her little sister chortled.
“What is it? Give me a clue!”
“Ooh, I love surprises,” said Little Sister, squirming in her seat with the glee of an impending giftee.
“You might love it. You might hate it. That’s the surprise.” And with that she disappeared into the next room, returning seconds later with a cardboard box.
Little Sister was ready to burst with excitement.
“It’s a kitten, isn’t it? I knew it!”
“It’s Schrodinger’s kitten,” asserted Miranda.
Little Sister’s face dropped.
“It’s not my kitten?”
“Schrodinger’s kitten is what you get when you buy a kitten from the pet shop, put it in a box and forget about it for about two hours while you go to buy wrapping paper and get distracted by a sale in your favourite shoe shop.”
“I don’t understand,” said Little Sister.
Miranda shoved the box into Little Sister’s hands and said “Long story short, it might be dead.”
With that, Miranda breezed out of the room, leaving Little Sister to contemplate the gravity of her statement.
She decided that she didn’t like surprises after all.