The bear made it home. I should have given you this breaking news last week, but between the car crash, the never ending dinner-turned-twisted-sociology-experiment, and the pig fecal symphony that nearly made my house uninhabitable, it sort of slipped my mind.
For those of you who missed the entire bear saga because you make poor life choices, I gave my brother Harry a seven-foot-tall taxidermy bear dressed in proper formal wear at his wedding reception. Harry’s living situation wasn’t stable enough to take the bear home with him that day, so the bear hung out with me for a few months until Harry managed to buy a house with enough room for the bear to stand perfectly still forever. A month ago, he finally bought a house. Rather than just letting me mail him the bear (I’ve been stockpiling forever stamps for a reason), Harry insisted on making the eleven-hour drive to my house to pick it up in person. We completed the handoff shortly after Christmas, and Harry rode off into the sunset w…
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