On Thanksgiving Eve, Jair and J.D. traced their hands on construction paper and cut them out to make turkeys. Jair wrote on his turkey, "I love Thanksgiving." J.D. asked me to write on his: "Why do people shoot me and eat me on Thanksgiving?"
Today I read a story about the wise men to the boys. "The wise men brought gifts of gold, frankincense, and ... " I paused to see if they knew what came next, and Jair chimed in - "Murder!"
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