My mental age is apparently 16. This comes as no surprise to my family, who’ve known it for years. Interestingly, yesterday I bought an over-priced hat that I’ll hardly ever wear simply because it reminded me of one I had… when I was 16. It’s a red corduroy floppy driving hat. (Snookums claims it looks like the ones train engineers wear.) I think it looks cool. Like I said, I’m 16.
We have the Harold McGee book, v interesting and often useful. Right up his alley I reckon!
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