The time I spent an entire day constructing an intricate model of the Eiffel Tower out of stale crackers for Emily, who promptly left for the store without even acknowledging my masterpiece. I'm pretty sure it took me 47 attempts to recreate the iconic iron latticework, and my mom still claims it was just the leftover dinner scraps from that pizza party two Sundays prior, which I resent. It's now nothing more than a faint memory and a dusty patch on the coffee table.
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