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Thank God for the Microwave

One Saturday morning I was relaxing in my bed, and in the morning my three sons will plop their bodies and lay there or wrestle with each other while I’m trying to relax on a Saturday morning.

Well, I ask my older son, Raul, to massage my shoulders and he did for about five minutes. I guess that was better than nothing. When he was done, I ask my youngest son, Justino, who is six years old now, to comb my hair. Well, he went and got the hairbrush and he said, I can comb your hair for a minute and I said, okay, thinking that he wasn’t gonna know how long a minutes is. Well after he got the comb he came back to my room and said, oh, I’ll be right back. So when he came back he started combing my hair and just about a minute I heard the microwave bell ring. I assume it was my other son just warming something up. And when I heard the ring of the microwave my son Justino said, “Mom did you hear that ring?” and I said, “Yes, Justino. Why?” He said, “That’s a minute, I’m done. I put the timer on the microwave, so I would know how long a minute is.” That Justino, he seems to amaze me with the things he comes out with; I love all my kids ...

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