Then I had brunch...also known as second breakfast...with my brother and his wife. He is five years older and picked on me relentlessly. He used to tell me that the police brought me and left me on the doorstep. What a nice brother. He also fed me Crisco one time; telling me that Mom made cookies with them. He was also generous enough to share "his" chocolate bar with me. Too badedly (not a real word), it was unsweetened baking chocolate. His wife assured me that he has mellowed since then. I have my doubts.
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