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Sunday, August 9, 2009

Another short edition of mutterings

"Mom, your stomach is small now. You can be a good woman again."

When I accidentally poured Elena's milk in her cereal for her...
"Next time, can you let me milk it?"

And who gets tired of Elena's constant need to tell us... (literally two dozen times a day)
"I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad. I love you, Michael."

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