4 years ago | 1 minute read
The other day, my mother decided it was time to get rid of a lot of the keepsake type stuff she had from my and my sister's childhood. Pictures, school projects, old art, and numerous other things were pulled out and put aside for us to go through in case we wanted to keep any of it. As my wife sifted through it, she came across a report I wrote about myself from the sixth grade. Needless to say, laughter ensued. It got me thinking, though..
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