the fact that I forget how real Mommy and Daddy were, the fact that existence is a fact, even if it happened in the past, as any History major should know, the fact that their deaths were such a shock that now I can’t seem to believe they were ever born, but they were, and they were children once, and grew up and went to college and fell in love and got married and had us and all that, the fact that they had three kids, they wiped our sit-me-down-upons, and washed our me-oh-mys, and cooked us meals and watched us grow up, pulling thorns out of my thigh when necessary, and glass out of my foot,
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