I was worried about my mom more than I was worried about the president. And then I was worried about the president and then I was worried about myself.
When I was 7 I came up with the idea of 'charm socks.' My mom would take me to buy bags of plastic charms we would sew them on frilly white socks and I sold them at school.
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Dinner 'conversation' at the Cohens' meant my sister mom and I relaying in brutal detail the day's events in a state of amplified hysteria while my father listened to his own smooth jazz station in his head.
