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#1
03-02-2013, 12:57 AM
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My son is 6 and I am 51. He has a sister but she is a girly girl and doesn't like to play rough stuff. When I come home he meets me at my truck with his basketball in his hand. Somtimes, for a split second, I want to tell him I am tired and don't want to play ball - but that smile of his wins me over every time. At 51 I know I only have a certain number of years to be in his life so I try to make his every day a fun one.
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