I’ve never really butted heads with my nephew. Not seriously, not like the other week. He’s always been the one who runs to me—when something’s wrong, when he needs to vent, heck, even when he wants to moon over his…
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precious moments
We were just hanging out, nothing special, when my then 12-year-old nephew, E, looked at me sideways and asked how old I was. “Forty-six,” I said, expecting nothing in particular. The reaction was immediate. Incredulous. Like I’d told him the…