ME: Grammy. Come see what Julius made.
GRAMMY: Lord. I can just imagine.
ME: Look Grammy. This one is me. The other is you.
GRAMMY: Ha! It does look like you. Same crooked nose. Same pouty lips.
ME: And look. He even got in your scar. You know, the one you got when you stowed away on Admiral Byrd's airplane.
GRAMMY: I didn’t stow away. He took me along, then got mad when I wouldn’t put out. So he put me out - on the ice in the middle of nowhere and that’s when I met your Grampy. Your real Grampy. Now there was a man. He wouldn’t have produced a son who played with toilet paper rolls.
ME: Grammy! This is art. This is talent! I mean, look at that scar. He lined it up exactly right. If you ask me, I think we’ve found Julius’ calling.
GRAMMY: Oh, great. Some men are called to serve God, some are called to serve their country, and my great-grandson is called to mangle toilet paper rolls.
Art: Junior Fritz Jaquet
Photo: Bored Panda.com
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