When you have brought up kids, there are memories you store directly in your tear ducts.
Stored away in some brain cell is the image of a long-departed aunt you haven't thought of in 30 years. Stored away in another cell is the image of a pink pony stitched on your first set of baby pajamas. All it takes to get that aunt mounted on the back of that pony is to eat a hunk of meatloaf immediately before going to bed.
A child seldom needs a good talking to as a good listening to.
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