I am working on a memorial art project as a tribute to G’s mom who passed away last year. I find him outside and tell him I need a hand. To which he begins a slow clap escalating to bravo and well done.
“No, I mean your ACTual hand. I need to paint your right hand red.”
G: “Can’t you use your own hand?”
Me: “It’s for your mom, it should be your hand.”
G: “I have a cut on my right hand.”
Me: “We can put liquid New Skin on it.” (which he lets me do)
G: “HOLY CRAP THAT BURNS!!! It’s got alcohol in it! …. SMELL THAT!”
It smells like alcohol.
(I know I shouldn’t be laughing but NOW he is gyrating around while swirling his right hand. When I ask him what he is doing he says;)
“I told you there was alcohol in it, my hand is drunk.”
Look what drunk hands can do!
shenaniganswithleannagainwebdotme 
That’s cool, what did you make that out of? And oh Kirk humor, got a love it.
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