I am notorious for not knowing my left from my right. To this day my dad teases me that I need the tennis shoes I had when I was a kid, with the words printed across the toes. I'm convinced, though, that it's more than just left and right. It seems that whenever I'm confronted with a binary choice I am just as likely to pick the wrong one as the right one. Some sort of glitch in brain wiring, I guess. If I can't tell right from left how can I ever hope to know:
West from Wrong
Tomorrow we'll celebrate Mother's Day in Minnesota.
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