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My daughter woke me at around 11:50 last night.
“Daddy”, she whispered, tugging at my shirt sleeve. “Guess how old I’m going to be next month.”
“I don’t know, beauty”, I said, as I slipped on my glasses. “How old?”
She smiled and held up four fingers.
It’s 7:30 now. My wife and I have been up with her for almost 8 hours. She still refuses to tell us where she got them.