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Have you bought yourself a Perfect Polly yet? No? A-parrot-ly, they “are so lifelike, only you will know it’s not real!”
While I wait for the veritable menagerie I ordered to arrive in the mail, I thought I’d recount my sister’s recent visit.
My older sister Yee is close to me in age – we’re just about 17 months apart. She’s an ER doctor in Texas. Her travel plans didn’t overlap with mine during our family beach vacation this year. So this past August, Yee and her boyfriend Jonathan opted to pay a special visit to L.A. to check out our new-ish digs and to teach us about Perfect Polly.
Upon looking up YouTube videos and researching Polly, I’ve learned that “she” has been a phenomenon for over a year. So forgive me if you a) have tired of Polly’s perfection, b) are reading this from under a stack of Pollys.
While this post addresses Yee’s visit and the intra-L.A. adventures we had during her visit, I had to promote Polly. Because as often happens with sibling shorthand, the odd cadences of her eerie chirps perseverated and became the go-to inside joke/soundtrack of the trip.