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In second grade, my teacher was Mr. Baron. Br. Baron was a nice guy and a
good teacher. For some reason, though, I was enamored with his sweaters.
They were nothing special, really: plain, brown vests, but I was always
rubbing up against him saying, "Mmmm, so fuzzy!" They felt good against
my face; warm and a little scratchy. I loved Mr. Baron in those
sweaters. I think it made him a little nervous.
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