One named Jim, one named Adam.
One 93 years old, one 33 years old.
Both born on September 1st. Both with an unnatural affinity for futzing about with sharp things and injuring themselves.
First, Granddaddy (93, just in case you’d forgotten) decides to mow the lawn, because I mean god forbid you just sit and drink gin all afternoon, right?
Then it appears he wanted to mess around with a chainsaw. Again, of course. What else do you do on a brisk September morning at ninety-three years of age? Adam has a sixth sense for power tools so boom! Suddenly there he was.
I like to imagine that the conversation was something like this
Granddaddy: Hey now, I’m thinking about taking a chainsaw to this stump.
Adam: Ooh, a chainsaw! Let me come stand RIGHT beside you, old man who can’t see very well!
Then after having some difficulty getting all of the way through the stump (YOU’RE NINETY THREE!!) Adam probably said something like,
Adam: Here Jim, step aside. I’ve found a rusty axe. Why don’t you stand directly behind me still holding the chainsaw whilst I hack at this stump for a while?
Granddaddy: Say, that sounds like a swell idea.
Now that stump, which I don’t think either of them had any good reason to be splitting in the first place (but they’d probably argue that is entirely beside the point), proved more resilient than they imagined. So this exchange probably followed:
Granddaddy: Look Adam, that rusty axe isn’t doing much. How’s about you get a splitter and use the blunt end of the axe to drive it into the stump?
Adam: Oh, you mean hammer it with the blunt end while swinging the blade side towards my beautiful face?
Granddaddy: That’s right.
Adam: Terrific! Here we go!
And then,
Adam: Jim do you know what we’re doing wrong here?
Me, screaming internally: EVERYTHING! Unplug the chainsaw! Back up! Where are your protective goggles?!
Granddaddy: Hm. Well now I think I do know. We’ve got that stump resting on the ground while you hack at it and I stand directly behind you, when I should be standing RIGHT beside you holding the stump upright with a rake while you continue to bludgeon it with that rusty axe.
Adam: I think you’ve really hit the nail-er, STUMP on the head there, Jim!
Both: Satisfied chuckling.
And the final scene, presented without comment. Adam and Jim, one soul, two bodies. Doing what they love.
(P.S. They both emerged unscathed. I have no idea how.
No reason for the stump splitting was ever given.)