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As I sat in McDonald’s last week, in one of the seemingly rare moments I have that’s not in full-on rush mode, I noticed an old couple eating lunch—with what was presumably their grandson—at the next table down from me.
The kid was maybe eight or nine years old, undoubtedly off from yet another day of school.
This is where I would normally describe him in greater detail, but the only way I would have been of any help in that department was if he had committed a crime and was in a lineup.
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