One of my favorite Thanksgiving memories seems to have happened a lifetime ago. It was a little before my brother fell ill…when he was either fifteen or sixteen, and I was twelve or thirteen. We were happily staying at our father’s house for the holiday. The weather was warm but windy, with no snow yet on the ground. So it was especially noticeable when some stray scraps of white paper began blowing across the dry, brown lawn. As it was a few hours before the big meal, Tom and I ran outside to gather up these loose pages. We headed back indoors to examine our find. They appeared to be from some poor kid’s notebook, with most pages containing uninteresting scribbles or dull homework notes. But one captured our attention. It was a message (written but never delivered?) which began by extolling the virtues of this boy’s love…with a line forever burned into my memory. “You are my firefox!!!!” The punctuation and content only spiralled further out of control from that point on. It was so long ago…yet I’m kicking myself for failing to remember the rest in greater detail. Suffice it to say, it gave our immature minds hours of amusement (I cringe at the thought of anyone invading my notebooks of that era). At one point I was laughing so hard I fell to the floor, crying and clutching my sides in an uncontrollable fit (those who know me well will recognize this behavior…thankfully it occurs but a few times a year). I’m torn, part of me wishes that we’d saved this love letter. If it were still in my possession I could submit it to Found magazine for the amusement of others. But I realize father probably knew best in this case. Our dad mercifully destroyed all the evidence, using the wayward pages as kindling in his fireplace.