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When my youngest brother, Rick, was in the first grade, and I was in the sixth, his teacher tapped on my classroom door and called me into the hall.
Rick hovered behind her.
She opened her palm, revealing an impressive pebble. I say impressive, because she said it came from Rick’s nose.
“He says he didn’t put it in there,” the teacher said.
I stared at her a minute, wondering if she had rocks in her head, then pulled Rick aside.
“Did you put that pebble in your nose?” I asked him.
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