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Oh Boy

Lisa returned from Florida bearing gifts of her sister's friend: lots and lots of baby clothes, enough to keep our progeny dressed for a year, I should think. Lisa mentioned in passing that we might be changing our boy three or four times a day. I said, "Why, just because we can?" She then reminded me about the likelihood of him spitting up on himself. To which I say, "Oh. Right."

Clearly I'm in trouble.

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On the downside, Shadows of Saturn has gone the way of so many other short fiction markets. But on the bright side, I can now dispense with future titling woes by using this handy generator.