The Male Animal

Two Mangnettes

It’s a beautiful October Saturday morning, and Snowman and I have taken Molly and Sam to the new dog park, a more woodsy place than the one close to home. We climb the hill and choose a path that will take us along a fence. I haven’t been here in a while, and it is a little overgrown. Some of the thin arms of bushes crossing it are thorny, and I warn Snowman as I hold back a branch.

"That would matter if I weren’t a man," he replies.

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It’s a less beautiful Wednesday morning, and Pure Luck and I are driving from one town to another in Non-Contiguous New England State, seeking out shopping and dining opportunities.

"I want you to see my favorite sign around here. I wish I could get someone to take my picture in front of it."

"Where is it?"

"Up around this bend. Wait for it. Wait for it. There!"

Ah.

STEEL IN ALL ITS FORMS

I roll my eyes. He grins.

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So, like stepfather, like stepson?

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