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I was almost sorry I hadn’t let [my mother] in on the process. But, no, she had been too preoccupied with washing Beth’s silverware with baking soda to notice my big decision-making saga.
“Brown is the only university in the country with an Egyptology department.”
“Egyptology?” my parents both intoned.
The dirtiest, germiest, most contaminated subject I could imagine: Mummified bodies, dusty bandages, bones filled with age-old marrow, ancient embalming fluids, canopic jars teeming with the pulsing remains of internal organs. My mother changed my sister’s sheets every day, but these things hadn’t been washed for 5000 years.
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