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My daughter is graduating from high school this week.
I’m sorry, I stand to be corrected.
According to proper grammar (for all those honor graduates who actually use it), she is being graduated, flying the coop, officially emptying the nest.
I have to admit I’m feeling pretty graduated myself, realizing once she heads off to the University of South Carolina in three months, I’ll be forced to find someone else to nag to get up in the mornings, along with other assorted issues. After 18 years, I may actually have to get myself a life.
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