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My daughter, Nora, has a game she plays almost daily. She makes chocolates out of play-clay and puts them in these empty
Escazu chocolate boxes and papers we always seem to have lying around. She then sets it all up and I have to come make a purchase. We discuss which of her sweets are dark chocolate and which are milk chocolate. Which are spicy. Which are filled with nuts. I have to call her Danielle as that is the owner of the chocolate shop we frequent. Nora tells me to have a nice day and then I pretend to eat the play-clay treats. If I am too enthusiastic about pretending to eat them, Nora reminds me that they are not real. Since her previous career aspiration was to be a cat, I am excited about this current turn.
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