Compostable Kate

I had to throw out my cute purple boom box recently, as it stopped working. Before consigning it to the rubbish bin, I took the batteries out of it. Six (six!) size C batteries are now sitting on my bookshelf, with nothing to do but fall over when Fred jumps on them. Strangely enough, and I can't think why, they make me think of my old Baby Alive doll (the original one from the 70s/80s, not the modern monstrosity). I had a Baby Alive, and Rach had a Baby Thataway (she crawled!). However, tragedy struck Baby Alive and Baby Thataway when Rach and I took them to the park and accidentally left them up in a tree.  By the time Mum took us back to the park to retrieve them, they were gone.  Gone!  Someone had stolen our babies. Rach and I were in-con-solable .  We wanted our dolls!  Boo hoo!  Waaaaah!!! Rach did get another Baby Thataway shortly afterwards (probably the next birthday), but I didn't get another Baby Alive.  I was nearly two years older than Rach, so getting a bit