Can’t remember what I forgot

Memory is a funny thing. I am frequently amazed at the seemingly endless amount of useless information I have stored in my brain. I can vividly remember an outfit I had in second grade that I hated with a passion not often seen in such a young child. It was a long-sleeved peasant top printed with strawberries, a pair of slacks that would make a fire engine say, “Wow! That’s red!” and a pair of…

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