Meeting Your Parents

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Yesterday I was trying to figure out how old my parents were when I first met them. I know I met them when I was born, but I'm thinking more in terms of when I actually remember meeting them for the first time. They must have been pretty close to my age now. I either met them when I was climbing into the back seat of a brown station wagon they used to own, or it could have been the time I tried to ride my dog Sasha like a horse and was clotheslined by the bumper pool table within the first few seconds. Either way, they were helpful and nice folks and we hit it off right away.

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