Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Something extremely important came to my attention this evening while speaking on my cellular telephone with my Father. My Old Man was born in 1945, the final year of World War Two. I had never realized this until today, but it triggered my recollection, which turns out to be true (says Wikipedia), that I was born in the final year of the Vietnam Invasion.

Does this make me want to have a kid? If so, how am I to know which one will be the one?


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