Since April I've been a fool looking for purpose and my hands aren't much different. They extend and do open-chasey stuff, but what are they for? They scratch my face a bit, but now they've found a real purpose.
If I could order the perfect set of robot limbs, I'd want them to be handy (no pun intended), matching (the rest of me) and able to do any huge number of highly functional tasks. I think God got my order and my credit card approved because I think I got 'em.
A week ago I learned to use them to slap, but all that did was back off the elders. Yesterday, however, I got a handle on using them to handle. I mix natural with my formula, so sometimes I get a bottle. You may not believe this, but my pale paws can also be used to hold my bottle.
If you think about it, there's perfect sense in it. Each of my hands has five wiggly li'l smokeys, each one able to grab with gripsome attention. They're kinda sticky and really, really strong. There's a plastic bottle in my face, why can't I use these boney hotdogs to grab it, assuming I give it proper practice.
I've been practicing like crazy and figured I'd give it a shot. I don't know if this is a record or anything but when I ratched up yesterday and took control of my bottle, everyone seemed shocked, surprised, and happy as vertibrate clams. Besides, now I was in control, no matter how little control I had.
Now that I look it seems both brothers are using their mammalian tentacles to command their tippy cups and bottles, but it's still an absurd novelty to me. What joy and opportunity I get from this development. What worlds and doors must now open to me, figuring as I can keep finding new functions for them. More than that they match me well and blend in totally. All my clothes have holes for 'em and no one thinks they're weird.
I dig my hands and now they have purpose. What a world we're in with this function!
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