"Please bless us that we might be fulfilled."
What? Fulfilled? As soon as we said "Amen," I burst into laughter. The entire dinner, tears were streaming down my face because everything we talked about made reference to being fulfilled.
I'm sure my parents hate the fact that I'm very critical of their language now, curse that statutory textualism training I've received, but I'm still hoping that I am fulfilled after a hearty meatloaf. (I hate meatloaf)
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