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I’m having breakfast, some cinnamon applesauce, with my coffee, and I’m browsing through the Sunday paper. 

Paige comes strolling in.  “So, Mom.  I have the perfect names for when I have kids.” 

“Oookay.  Whaddaya got?” 

“So, there’s Callie, Cinderella, Marina and Le Pew, for a girl.”

I choke on my coffee, and struggle to get it down.  “I’m sorry.  Did you say Cinderella and Le Pew?  And you know Callie was the name of Nana’s dog, right?” 

“And for boys,” she continues on, without acknowledging my questions, “There’s Jaques, Gus and Shout.” 

And just like that, the conversation is over.  She gets up and leaves the room as fast as she entered.

God help any future grandkids.  Or son-in-law’s for that matter.   

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