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Creative Writing: The House On Mango Street

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More friends and family had come in since the previous day, and my aunt graciously offered to keep the girls at the hotel and take them swimming (score!) so day two was a bit less stressful for me as I wasn't constantly asking, "Where's Molly? Where's Bridget?" and worrying about the rows of breakable merchandise in each store. This time we all drove our own cars into Mexico instead of relying on the border taxis, as it had been a pain in the ass to get everyone into a cab to go home the day before. Right after we parked and started walking down the street, a man approached my sister-in-law and started telling her we had stolen his juice the day before. After a while, we figured out he was one of the cab drivers that had taken us home, but
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