[Papyrus nods along, noting names and hints of the stories as Sans goes gift by gift. It sounds like there were stresses and fears, but also causes for excitement and joy, and all in all it's all he could hope for Sans, somehow left to his own devices without Papyrus to look out for him. Thinking from that perspective, of a lifetime of pushing at his brother, the last comment baffles him for a second.]
You did...? Oh, yeah, you did. [He frowns a little, because even though the chronology of his memories is straightforward, from their own world to that in-between to the beach, the memories themselves don't connect, his own priorities don't match up. It's like somebody took two different Papyruses and shoved the memories together, sharing mental space since down in the tunnels. He's torn between different things to say, here, and hesitates before plowing forward.]
And... then... Sans. You have to tell me. How many birthdays did I miss???
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You did...? Oh, yeah, you did. [He frowns a little, because even though the chronology of his memories is straightforward, from their own world to that in-between to the beach, the memories themselves don't connect, his own priorities don't match up. It's like somebody took two different Papyruses and shoved the memories together, sharing mental space since down in the tunnels. He's torn between different things to say, here, and hesitates before plowing forward.]
And... then... Sans. You have to tell me. How many birthdays did I miss???