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My own.

As I was trying to calm a fussy NRP this morning, I walked her by the pictures of my grandparents on the wall. And I started to tell her stories about how they used to let us tie their legs up to the bed rails on the top bunk while we played hospital. And about how Nanny used to have dinner ready by 4:30 and about how grandaddy used to pretend not to see me sneak under the table and tie his shoelaces together and he'd get up and fall down on purpose. I told her that they'd be so in love with her and think she was the most precious and special little girl.

I thought I knew what love was. And then I had her and it was like I've been a moron this entire time.

3:53 p.m. - 2014-02-05

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