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If my brother had a wife
She’d be short and cute and round
With a bad haircut
And they would have a million kids
And they’d be silly and stupid together
And none of us would understand

Or she’d be tall and stunning
Like our mother
Kind and fierce and independent
And he’d laugh at her a little
Then strap the baby into the snuggly
To bail her out of jail

Or she’d be ordinary, even dull
Except for the sparkle in her eyes
Because she sees something in him
The rest of us cannot see
And we’d be puzzled and envious
Because we want that for ourselves

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