Just sit right back and you'll
hear a tale, a tale of a fateful... wait a minute... wrong story.
My brother, who was in third grade at the time of this story, was
invited to spend the night over at his friend's house. Meanwhile, at the same time, my brother's friend's sister invited one of her friends to sleep
over. In the middle of the night my brother and his friend put toothpaste
all over the hands of the two girls such that when awoke and presumably ran
their hands through their respective hair, it would become minty-fresh. As
it happened, my brother's pajamas
were the full-body, zipper-from-the-neck-to-the-ankle, footed pajamas which
we called "feety pajamas". (You saw that coming, didn't you?)
"Yes, but how did you
get the name?" you cry. Well, just
hang on, and I'll get to that part.
My brother is younger than I am, by the same amount that my brother's friend was younger than his sister.
And thus it came to be that my brother's friend's
sister's friend started calling me
"Feety". (It didn't
help that I was doing a rocketry project at the time, and she kept asking
me how the Rockettes project was going!)
Terribly exciting, isn't it?