Truthful, hysterical, and mildly depressing (not really) — ThunderPuff, you have a way of pouring the amusing reality of life into words and drawings.

Around the age of ten, I had a horseback riding accident that left me with back pain for more than a year. Pain I thought backed its bags and left but, in reality, was only sleeping like Rip Van Winkle, waiting for me to reach the ripe, old age of twenty to awaken and become my conjoined twin, walking through the years with me like a boxing partner and his punching bag. I was the bag. Often bruised and battered but never alone.

I tell that story to say this. As people my age and younger complain of aches, pains, physical inability, sleeplessness, and exhaustion, I laugh heartily because I’ve always had those companions. I got old early. It was worse then because I was supposed to be young, suppose to be pain-free, supposed to be sprightly. Now, just another day. Nothing new. Just the punching bag and boxer going through life.

Sadly, youthful injuries are the plus in my aging process!