I doubt that the story is worth Neal's offer but it goes on...

After picking up the box of chips (see earlier post) and carefully counting them, I went upstairs from my den to get my address book as I had to ship the chips off to Dale Seymour. I put the box down on my top step as it was heavy and set off for my bedroom when I heard a tremendous crash followed by a child howling (in fear as it turned out) and my large and usually quiet Shepherd barking. I rushed back and there at the bottom of the stairs was 1) my 10-year-old daughter in tears, 2) my dog happily pushing ivory chips over the tiled floor and 3) 700+ ivory chips all over the den. I refrained from killing my daughter (it's a good thing since last year she gave me a grandbaby), penned the dog, collected the chips, counted the chips and ultimately sent them off to Seymour who had absolutely no idea the trouble he had caused me.