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The silver needle finally acquiesced to the probing black thread.
Do all parents go through this, I ask myself.
The object of today’s battleground lies crumpled upon my lap;
A day old winter jacket already looking shabby,
Scarred through carelessness. Squinting at black fabric,
I concentrate on repairing the gaping, saw toothed pocket.
What had been a pleasant enough day was now marred
By the blazing argument between mother and…
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Added by Kay Elizabeth on February 15, 2010 at 5:30am —
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