“Hey, John,” I said. “Pull up a chair and tell me how life is going up in Canada.”
One of the nicest things about living here is all of the people you meet. You might only see them once or twice a year but some become old familiar friends.
John pulled up one of the chairs on the deck of the Holiday Hotel and sat down for coffee with me.
“Life is good in Canada,” he told me, “but it would be better if it was as warm as it is here.”
John’s wife passed us on the deck and said, “Hello.” Then she said, “John I’ll be back soon. I’m going shopping.”
“Wow! She looks great,” I said. “I thought you emailed me that she had a horrible burn on her face from a cooking accident.”
“She did,” John said. “The doctor made some amazing skin grafts to cover the scarring.”
“But, she’s so tiny,” I said. “Where would they get skin for a graft?”
“It was a problem,” he said. “I finally ended up donating some skin for her.”
“But her cheek is so smooth. Where did they get such smooth skin from you?”
“From my butt. It’s the only place where I have smooth skin.”
“Ooh! That must have been painful.”
“Well, I couldn’t sit down for six months,” he said.
“That’s a hell of a sacrifice,” I said.
“Not really,” he said. “I get paid back over and over.”
“What do you mean?”
He said, “You can’t imagine the thrill I get every time I see her mother kiss her on the cheek.”
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