We don't write papers, we build scrapbooks
My first thought when I heard my wife scream upstairs was that the dog had torn up something that was precious in her eyes. But no sooner did I get up out of my chair in the basement than I realized … this was not a scream of anger.
“I can’t believe it! Miracles Happen! Woot! Woot!”
At this point, I figured she got some kind of notice in the mail that she had been waiting on forever, but no sooner did I return to my seat than I realized, her scream of joy came as she walked into the kitchen … there’s no way she could have had time to open a letter and read it.
It was time to ask.
“What’s happe...
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