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Okay, but I would pay extra for this driveway.
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Um, can I please get every neighborhood kid and animal to come walk across my driveway? Can I get a cat to just run around on there? This flock of ducks did such an amazing job!
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I was 18 months old when my parents built their house. After pouring the concrete slab for the foundation, my father, world’s most sentimental man, carried me down into the hole so he could preserve a single imprint of my little baby foot in the house he was building for me to grow up in.
Naturally, I wriggled loose, so what is actually preserved for posterity in my parents’ basement floor is my mad dash through this glorious new mud pit, followed by my father’s footprints in hot pursuit, a visible scuffle where the fugitive was captured, and then my father’s prints returning to the ladder.
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I hope some future archeologist finds your parent’s basement floor because they’re going to lie down on the ground and cry about it.
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