Chapter 3, by Amy Friedman

“I remember being born, Mama, I do!” Molly said. “I was floating in your belly. Then I was in a tight tube, and I was squeezed and squeezed until I came out.”

I smiled at her. I’d heard this before. “What else do you remember?” I said gently.

“The lights were so bright! And I was so cold. Someone hit me!”

“Quite a story for early in the morning,” I said, sighing inwardly. It was definitely time. “Eat your cereal. You’ll be late for school.”

“You don’t think I can remember,” Molly pouted.

“Honey, you were a caesarean,” I said.

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