In kindergarten, he had a pal named Timmy. Timmy was crazy-feral in a Helen-Keller-eat-the scrambled-eggs-with-fingers sort of way. Sleepovers required three changes of bathwater before his little body stopped sticking to the sheets. He also had a peculiar habit: Bathroom door ajar he’d pee, then slowly walk backwards mid-stream. For a few nanoseconds his tiny bladder sustained enough pressure to actually hit the bowl then the sagging stream of urine would dribble across the floor and onto his running shoes. Now he’s a Winnipeg hearthrob with teenaged girls eating from his hands. Let’s hope he’s learned to wash them first.
Photo by Sam Bassett (Getty Images)
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