Hypothetical Apologies pt. 2: Old-Fashioned Apologies
My one-year-old nephew is just starting to talk, and it’s awesome. He talks to you, but finding that bridge between what he’s saying and what he means always requires a certain special blend of translation and intuition. “Malh,” he says, and it’s pretty obvious that he’s looking for milk. “Gaaihnn” is my name. And “ayaaa,”…
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