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OatmealWith no grandchildren within a thousand miles, I’m just an old man with some empty oatmeal boxes.  Danged if I know what to do with them.

They should be drums for the grandchildren.

Or pinhole cameras.

Or art projects.

Or SOMETHING.

I have nine grandchildren – at last count – but no one to give my oatmeal boxes to except the trash collector.

Isn’t it a pity?

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