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I write about mothers as though mine was this horrible monster who abused me, or, at the very least, ignored me. None of that’s true. She was the first mother in line everyday at school to pick me up so I never had to wait or ride home with someone else. She stamped hearts or smiley faces into my crustless sandwiches. She let me stay home from school to swim in our pool (and also because she was bored and wanted someone to talk to). So I’m not really sure where this dark mother stuff comes from. That’s all…
