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I'm horrible with dates. As in month, day, year -- not romantic meetings or the fruit. Or romantic meetings with the fruit. If I didn't have a digital calendar, I'd never remember my wedding anniversary. Or birthdays. Or any holiday that doesn't have a 25 or 31 in it. You'd think that over the years important dates would become more embedded in my memory since they happen over and over, but what actually happens is that the more people you add to the mix, the more jumbled those numbers become.

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Stop. Fucking.

It's the same with names. That sounds weird until you think about that one person (usually your grandma) who gets pissed off and rattles off six names before she finally lands on the right one. That happens sooner than you think. I have three very well-behaved kids, but when they decide to have their moment of chaos, it hits your nerves like a dentist's drill. And in that burst of frustration, your mind just scrambles, and you find yourself going through names that you're not even sure are real.

"Jason! Robby! Drew! Bill! Franko! Bucky! Dasher! Dancer! Thrust Bonerdong!"

There are days where every piece of information is like trying to remember a one-hit wonder that you don't know the lyrics or melody to. Just a foggy feeling that you should know it, and if someone were to tell you the name, you'd immediately feel stupid for not coming up with it on your own. It doesn't mean you love the song any less. It's just that you've heard a thousand songs since then, and the only one you can remember without question is "Smell Yo Dick."