My Comments
Jarts; the subject of one of our most repeated family stories. One boring summer afternoon when I was about seven years old I was attempting to amuse myself by throwing the lawn darts as high as I could. The back of my unsuspecting grandmother's head was the receipient of one of my more successful tosses. The sheer horror of seeing the shiny blue jart and her now shiny red (previously white) hair was to much for me so I took off running down the road. Since we were home alone and this was a fairly high speed, high traffic road (by yesterday's standards, anyway), she had to remove the jart herself and then chase my stupid seven year old butt down and drag me home. She was a strong woman and lived another 37 years after my famous stunt but she never did let me use the lawn darts again.
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Jarts; the subject of one of our most repeated family stories. One boring summer afternoon when I was about seven years old I was attempting to amuse myself by throwing the lawn darts as high as I could. The back of my unsuspecting grandmother's head was the receipient of one of my more successful tosses. The sheer horror of seeing the shiny blue jart and her now shiny red (previously white) hair was to much for me so I took off running down the road. Since we were home alone and this was a fairly high speed, high traffic road (by yesterday's standards, anyway), she had to remove the jart herself and then chase my stupid seven year old butt down and drag me home. She was a strong woman and lived another 37 years after my famous stunt but she never did let me use the lawn darts again.