The sweetest smell of blueberry muffins whirled down the long hallway spilling into the bedroom where I was sleeping. It was an irresistible invitation that swiftly rounded me up and onto my feet.
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I am not like my mother.
My mother worked full time, a single mother for many years, solely responsible for looking me in the face every single day.
Weary and exhausted from a long day’s work, she made sure that we had a warm meal each night. If she had a complaint about this, I never heard it, not even under her breath.
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