My father and I aren't particularly close, but we have a special bond — a bond that began on the day my sister was brought home from the hospital and remains to this day. (Why the day my sister was brought home from the hospital? The story goes that I used to sleep right next to my mother every night until my sister was born. The day that my mother came home with a new human who would undoubtedly steal the majority of her affection, I promptly gathered my pillow and ran to my father's side of the bed. I continued to sleep next to my father from that day forward, until my sister and I were afforded our own room.) While...
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