John on: Why We Don't Have Nice Things

Not that a 20 year old t-shirt from someone else’s family reunion is nice. But it’s been in my possession for forever, since I stole it from my sister, who bought it for a sawbuck at the Salvation Army when we were in high school. Seen here in happier days with young, smiley, non-breaking stuff Jack:

But alas, the strong grip of an 11-week old boy took care of it being the one vintage tee I’d been holding onto for the last 15-20 years. Jack’s natural place to grip when he’s sleeping on me is the front neckline of my t-shirts. (If I’m wearing a V-neck, which I don’t usually do as a hairy man, his secondary grip is usually a hunk of my chest hair. I might have to start wearing turtlenecks. Or at least a dickie.)

Anyway his superstrong kung-fu grip did this:

And I can only imagine this is the beginning. I’m pretty sure we’re just going to stretch out barbed wire fence in the entrance ways of the front room, where all our books and my records are exposed, to keep him out of there. I don’t want to walk into the house one day to see Jack sitting on the floor with two halves of my Mission of Burma “Forget” LP on red vinyl in his wee little hands. That thing is worth money, kid!

Where does one buy barbed wire these days? Or is there an ehow video about making your own?

heart,
John