About two years ago I visited Evan at preschool and brought him some Fig Newtons to eat with his lunch. He tried one and told me he didn't like it. I had forgotten all about this until today, when Evan came into the room where I was working and apologized.
Evan is incredulous that I've been working for three months on a short poem and still haven't finished it. To show me how easy it ought to be, he just dictated the following poem to me:
Peacho peacho peacho,
deacho deacho deacho,
I pick a peach from my peach tree
and I eat it.
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