Somehow, in the past thirty-two hours or so, I've become that kid from summer camp. You know the one. The kid who somehow manages to get poison ivy, after spraining their ankle, after the run in with the
leeches and the
yellowjackets, after the squirrel attack, after slicing their hand open during the woodworking class where we learned to make bird
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I once, while trying to get the beaters out of an electric mixer, got the buttons mixed up and hit on instead of release, and managed to get all the fingers on one hand caught up in the beaters. Sheer unadulterated talent.
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