How George Armstrong Custer ruined my Christmas
Long ago when I was a wee little lad, my mom took me to the store at Christmas time and told me the mother of my friend Billy (not his real name) needed help picking out presents for him.
She said, "Pick out a couple of toys you think Billy would like and that's what I'll tell his mom to buy."
Oh how sweet.
What my mom didn't know was that Billy and I had …
