It's That Special Time of Year
Oh how I look forward to this time of the year! When there's a nip in the air and a fire in the hearth it can only mean one thing. It's time to tell the world how old the Sister is!!!
She once told me that she had first hand knowledge that the Garden of Eden was really just a truck patch and mostly turnips at that.
She also said that in her opinion the Big Bang was more like a thud than a bang.
Maybe she's not quite that old. Mother told me that when Sister was born it was certainly a happy day in the cave. Then things quickly took a turn for the worst when Mother mistakenly nursed a sloth bear the following two weeks. But being the tough little cuss that the Sister is, she somehow made it.
She once did a cave painting of dogs playing poker.
These days she an unofficial consultant for the History Channel. If there's a question about skinning out a brontosaurus or the size of a mastodon foot, she's a fountain of knowledge. But I'll tell you one thing, we don't like to go over to her house on holidays because we always end up sitting on the couch chewing a deer hide while watching a show about the extinction of the dinosaurs and her mumbling, "That's not what happened. It wasn't a meteor. It was the damned mosquitoes."
She's pretty easy when it comes to birthday presents. A sharp stick or a rock that fits her hand pretty well will usually make her happy. I gave her a couple of sail rabbits* last year and she fashioned herself some really nice slippers out of them.
Anyway, I hope she had a nice birthday and the people from the Guinness Book of World Records didn't harass her too much.
* a rabbit that's been run over so many times there's nothing left but a skin.
She once told me that she had first hand knowledge that the Garden of Eden was really just a truck patch and mostly turnips at that.
She also said that in her opinion the Big Bang was more like a thud than a bang.
Maybe she's not quite that old. Mother told me that when Sister was born it was certainly a happy day in the cave. Then things quickly took a turn for the worst when Mother mistakenly nursed a sloth bear the following two weeks. But being the tough little cuss that the Sister is, she somehow made it.
She once did a cave painting of dogs playing poker.
These days she an unofficial consultant for the History Channel. If there's a question about skinning out a brontosaurus or the size of a mastodon foot, she's a fountain of knowledge. But I'll tell you one thing, we don't like to go over to her house on holidays because we always end up sitting on the couch chewing a deer hide while watching a show about the extinction of the dinosaurs and her mumbling, "That's not what happened. It wasn't a meteor. It was the damned mosquitoes."
She's pretty easy when it comes to birthday presents. A sharp stick or a rock that fits her hand pretty well will usually make her happy. I gave her a couple of sail rabbits* last year and she fashioned herself some really nice slippers out of them.
Anyway, I hope she had a nice birthday and the people from the Guinness Book of World Records didn't harass her too much.
* a rabbit that's been run over so many times there's nothing left but a skin.
You ever heard of a sail brother?
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