Nine or ten years ago, I cut down a dead tree out back. Leon must have been about eight and Bobby about six.
I'd buzzed it up and split it into smaller pieces and they were "helping" me haul it out front.
After about a half-hour of grunting and sweating, I overheard this conversation:
Leon: Bobby, are you goin' to college?
Bobby: I don't know.
Leon: If you don't go to college, you gotta stay here and work for dad.
Bobby: I'm goin' to college.
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