Remember when you were a kid and you'd lend a book or [record album/cassette/CD] to a friend and never, ever get it back? Your friend always had an excuse: "I haven't finished with it" or "My brother's listening to it."
Now, in middle age, it's those reusable ice packs. A few weeks back I took one to a friend's house to put on my elbow after tennis and -- foolishly -- left it there in his freezer.
He used the ice pack on his sore knee and said he especially liked the practical sleeve that I knitted for it to keep it in place.
Once his knee was feeling better, I asked for it back.
"I got stung by a bee," he said, voice quavering piteously. "I still need it."
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