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Brought back happy memories of Dad typing away late at night. That's where B found him to ask for his blessing to propose, and where Mom tracked the weird sounds of mooing cows and meowing kittens, the tell-tale noises of a key misstroke.
Farewell, Broderbund! Thanks for making my Dad so happy...
"A, how many words can you type a minute?"
"Um, I don't know Dad."
"I'm up to eight. That's pretty good, huh?"
"That's awesome, Dad."
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