Ha Ha!

See, the truth is, I've been kind of lying all along about how this roofing hammer is technically "mine."

It was Johnny's. I found it in his stuff and I adopted it. But I didn't buy it. It was his.

Just this second, though, he tore his thumb open on a loose nail on the futon (yeah, yeah, he's okay), and when he came in here looking for something to bang the bastard in with, what he said was:

"Where's your hammer?"

I've been keeping it in my office since I found it in the basement, because I didn't want it to go wandering again.

I handed it to him, and he said "Ah, thanks," and he used it (and it didn't work, and he needs a punch, and all the punches are at Andy's, but the point is):

He thinks it's mine now, too!

And so it is.