My Axe

anecdote

My dad gave me an axe to chop firewood.

My dad’s a veterinarian and this guy who owned a pet store in New Jersey used to get puppies checked. He’d bring his grandson with him.

This Jersey kid and I are hanging out in the yard, and I go, ‘check out this axe.”

And the Jersey kid goes, “Wow, you have a hax.” He said axe with an H on the beginning.

I kind of laughed, “It’s axe, no H.”

Then he said, “If I had a hax like that, bet I’d chop down a tree.”

I said, “Well, we rent, so I’m not allowed to chop down any of the trees with my ‘AXE’.”

He looked around at our yard and pointed to the trees and said, “I would chop down all these trees with my hax, if I had one.”

I felt that this was pretty big talk for someone with his language skills. But I didn’t say that. I just stared at him.

He stared at me, like a dog looking at a dishwasher.

“Lemme see your hax,” he said.