© Bruce Goodman 29 May 2023
Kevin had always wanted a toboggan, and he got one for his birthday.
“Who’s a lucky boy?” exclaimed Aunt Thora. She was always one for the original phrase. Kevin sighed. He’d heard Aunt Thora say “Who’s a lucky boy?” a thousand times.
“There’s no snow,” said Philomena. “Why would you want a toboggan?” Kevin explained that he could use it on a grassy slope. Going downhill on grass is not as slippery as snow but it’s still fun.
“To each their own,” said Aunt Thora. “I wouldn’t be found dead on that thing. Not even if you paid me.”
“You’re ninety-four,” said Kevin. “You’d probably break your neck.” It was a very imprudent thing to say to Aunt Thora. Kevin should have known not to rile Aunt Thora.
“You can say what you like,” declared Aunt Thora. “Personally I think it childish that you should want a toboggan when you’re in your sixties.”
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