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She crosses the kitchen and opens the back door; she must have seen them through the window. "Jean Marie! Do you mean to tell me that you have the gall to hide out here laughter smoking while we all rummage around your kitchen trying to put laughter Thanksgiving dinner on your table!" She is standing on the back porch along with my nephew, Jason, and Zack. They look confused. "Ma. We're not doing anything WRONG! Sorry if I wanted to smoke a cigarette after cooking that whole dinner all morning." "Let me laughter tell you something. I did not drive all the way from New Hampshire to Maine to stand around and wait so you can have a party out here while the whole Thanksgiving dinner gets cold. Next year, I'm going to Jeff and Carolyn's!" My mother slams the door with a dramatic physicality that is usually reserved for professional mimes.
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