
My daughter had her birthday sleepover last night. We went swimming, out to eat, painted nails and watched a movie. The movie was the main event, anticipated greatly by at least one of us.
Me.
You see, this was the first time I allowed my daughter to experience Jane Austen. I have protected Jane from the offense of being read by to young-a-girl, of being blown off, misunderstood, or haphazardly...
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