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Funny Bone.
    She grabbed Tina Tag-Along and pulled the string on her back, but instead of “Me, too!” Tina now said “Mrggfft.”
    â€œGood-bye, Tina,” she said, replacing the doll gently in the box.
    â€œAll the toy money comes back to you,” Dad informed her.
    â€œReally? Cool!” She might earn enough for a field guide if Ms. M didn’t find hers.
    â€œWhat do you think for Chutes and Ladders?” said her mother, pen poised over a sticky label. “Two bucks?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œThe playhouse is a little worse for wear, but it should bring at least twenty dollars.”
    What? The chocolate milk turned to sludge in Sadie’s throat. She sputtered. “We can’t sell the playhouse!”
    â€œWhy not?” said her father. “You never play in it.”
    â€œYes I do. I did today.”
    â€œRemember what the Buddha said.” Her mother slapped a sticker onto Diva Dinah’s now only somewhat-sequined gown. “Suffering comes from attachment.”
    Sadie rolled her eyes. “I’m not attached to it. I play in it.”

    â€œLook,” said her mother firmly. “I am suffering. My back suffers every time I have to move that thing to mow. My eyes suffer when they see the big yellow spot where it’s killed all the grass.”
    Sadie’s father went to put his arm around her, but she ducked out of reach. “Some things you can hold on to, honey. Others you have to let go.”
    â€œLet go,” meaning lose ? The way Ms. M had lost Ethel and Onyx? And now Sadie would lose . . .
    â€œNo!”
    â€œYes,” said her mother in her end-of-discussion tone. “Say good-bye to your playhouse and wish it well. Tomorrow it’s moving on.”

Chapter 12
    Snow Globes and Unicorn Horns
    S adie hurried to the playhouse with the news. The bad news. News so bad, it felt like she was carrying something heavy. Something she couldn’t wait to put down.
    Without knocking, she burst through the door.
    The witch didn’t even turn around. Didn’t stop taking things out of her apparently bottomless black bag and lining them up on the ground. She was humming to herself. The soft “ m, m, m ”s mingled with an aroma of—what, exactly? Spices, yes, but not cooking spices. Spices from somewhere with a long, mysterious name. Somewhere hot winds blew and animals with bells around their ankles rose and shook themselves free of sleep.
    Sadie took a deep breath. Her news—that awful burden—seemed lighter. But still not good.
    â€œThere’s going to be a yard sale,” she began.
    Ms. M turned and smiled. “I know. That’s why I’m doing a little housecleaning.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œFirst things first, dear. Do you have any of those stickers people use for yard sales? I’d like to price these items.”
    â€œBut what about—”
    â€œAt least three dollars for this.” Ms. M held up a stubby yellow pencil.
    â€œIt’s only an inch long.”
    â€œTrue, but it’s a pencil from Pennsylvania. Hear the alliteration? That adds to the value.”

    Next Ms. M handed her a cloudy snow globe. “From the Sahara. One of a kind.”
    â€œIt’s empty!”
    â€œSadie, I’m surprised that a clever girl likeyou has forgotten that it doesn’t snow in the desert.” The witch took back the globe. Breathed on it. Polished it with her sleeve. “Ten dollars, don’t you think?”

    â€œNo, and anyway, what I came to tell you is—”
    â€œWhat about this?” Ms. M showed Sadie a faded blue T-shirt with writing on it. A lot of writing.
    Sadie strained to read the small print. “What does it say?”
    Ms. M recited, “I Survived the Two Wicked Stepsisters Zip Line at Prince Charming’sSlip-er-Slide Water Park and Nevertheless All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt, Which Isn’t Even 100% Cotton and