Today is my grandfather’s birthday. Here he is, shoveling snow in 1939:
I will not look that dapper when I am 39, nor will I shovel that much snow while wearing a suit, a nice overcoat, and dress shoes.
Grampa would’ve turned 115 today if he hadn’t died stopping that spatial-temporal rift from tearing the Sun apart.
One thought on “Happy 115th!”
I keep forgetting that Mrs. Hmnahmna is only a couple of months older than you.
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