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Growing a Man

“You know, mama,” my six year old said, walking to the fridge, “a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”

I stared at him in bemusement. “Does he?”

He nodded, “Yep. And you know I’m a man.”

I studied his red hair that refuses to lay flat, his bright blue eyes, his gapped tooth smile, his smooth cheeks.…

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