Going to my uncle’s house is fun. He’s twenty-seven, my mother’s younger brother. He wears sweatshirts and is tall and thin like his dad, my Gramps. My uncle has Nagel and Picasso prints on his walls and Eurythmics playing on his stereo. He also has a dart board. And because I am six, this makes his house one of the more interesting ones I get to visit. I may be in the first grade, but I know that Nagel is sexy.
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