Grandpa wrote:
It was a dark, dank and dreary day.
We were playing in the playground.
It was a Tuesday, if I remember correctly.
A Tuesday, not unlike the many, many, Tuesdays we've all seen.
It had been raining that Tuesday, raining hard.
The teacher called me aside and pointed to one of my friends.
It was that fateful Tuesday. That wet, dark Tuesday.
"Why do you call him 'Toasty'? she asked.
"Ma'am, I'm glad you asked," was my smooth reply.
I gave a quick glance around before I continued, "There's a very good reason for it, actually."
My voice lowered into a near conspiratorial tone, "We call him 'Toasty'..."
"... because 'Toasty' is his name."
Hell yeah!
