Isaac's special place

When Jared & I were dating in college (wait, you say, you're STILL in college-- that's besides the point), I started borrowing his car once a week to drive to snowboarding class. I guess Jared could see the writing on the wall, and to him it meant that this was the start of me taking over his entire life and all his stuff. Smart, visionary man. So he designated his car's center console as his "special place" that I was not allowed to touch or even look at.

There was absolutely nothing special in the special place. A few of MY mixed tapes from high school (even though I had already replaced his car stereo with a CD player-- I know, it still makes us sound old), some girl's barrett with a purple feather on it, a hula girl key chain... You get the idea.

I respected his wishes and left it alone-- I just made sure to poke fun on a regular basis.

Well, like father, like son.

Isaac has a special place-- his fist. He will keep that thing so tightly clenched that you'd think he's protecting the world's most prized possession. But when we pry it open (which is much harder than it should be), we just find lint! I don't know where he gets it. I promise we bathe him. In fact, we'll clean out his hand each day, and hours later he has collected more lint.

I guess we could respect his special place and leave it alone, but... ew.

Isaac on the right, holding on tight!