And Karen, I’m really sorry about that whole “smashing your finger with the sledge hammer” thing.

Oh, you’ll get yours…

Thanks for the b-day wishes

So if I’ve got close to ten years up on you, Grasshopper, how many ‘muches’ younger than I would they be?

I think we dispense with “much” and simply say “significantly” at that point.

Hadn’t heard the sledgehammer-thingy story.

Adam and I were smashing BBs on a rock with a sledge hammer (Hey, we had no TV, no Nintendo, what were we supposed to do?) when two very curious little girls happened by.

“What are you doing?” they asked.

“Smashing BBs,” we said. I brought the sledge hammer down on a BB that Adam had laid atop a flat stone.

“Why?” they asked. Wham! I hit the BB again, flattening it noticeably.

“They get hot,” we said. It was true, they did. I raised the sledge hammer again.

As I brought the sledge hammer down, Karen reached in to touch the BB, wanting to verify that it was, indeed, getting warm. WHAM! The sledge hammer hit the tip of Karen’s finger.

Mom piled us all in the car and we headed for L’Anse. On the way, Karen fell asleep in the back seat. I watched, fascinated, as the nail on her swollen finger fell off.

Happy birthday to my sisters, Brenda (AKA Jamwoman; Older, Bigger Lil Sis) and Karen (AKA Karen), who are both much, much younger than me.

So if I’ve got close to ten years up on you, Grasshopper, how many ‘muches’ younger than I would they be?

Hadn’t heard the sledgehammer-thingy story.

Weren’t they supposed to be identical in some way? If not, why have I thought so?