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... and I’m just over here playing diligent caretaker thinking just how much do the tables really love to turn and invert, don’t they?
It’s usually me bed-ridden and enfeebled, usually me seeing my meals served at bedside atop gleaming silver trays... except I wasn’t that impeccable a cook than this prodigal Masterchef that I was now currently spoon feeding a lukewarm bowl of soup to instead of the five-star culinary delights I was usually accustomed to.
But hey, she’s slurping down ...
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