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April 2, 2010
There were few places that I could drop the fascade, but my cousins house was one of them. How I loved being "one of the gang". My wonderfully wise aunt would dress me in the boys clothes and send me outside to run and play without a care in the world. Here, clothes were meant to get dirty. No one got upset if they got caught on a tree branch or a sharp stone. Trees were meant to be climbed, mud to be made into pies and  children were meant to just play and be themselves.