The Arm: confessions of a seemingly "normal" girl

I have a secret...

(Picture taken in my apartment in Thatcher 2007)

This is my arm. Yes, it is fake. I have had it since high school and it is one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
For a good purpose I stole it. From someone else who stole it.
I gave it a good home, nurtured it, loved it, and gave it all the attention it needed.
Since the day I got the arm I have taken it places with me, made others fall in love with it, and have had countless hours of fun with it. I am not ashamed of the arm. I just don't know if the world is ready for it yet and I don't really love the looks I get from people who don't understand. They will get it someday.
When I went to college, my arm came with me. I posed with it in my college year book (you would have too) photo, I would stick it on my friends cars (it's magnetic) while they were in class, and on more than one occasion my friends and I would find an apartment full of cute boys, write our address on the arm, stick it on their doors (have I mentioned that it is magnetic?) and wait for them to bring it back to us. Worked like a charm.
Since I have been married, and so much more mature (...) the arm has remained mostly in our closet. But on rare occasions, when I am feeling really crazy, I bring it out and carefully place it around the house for Steven to find...

This is on Steven's bedside table...

This is the arm stuck to a metal hanger(magnetic!)on Steven's side of the closet while in my costume from Halloween.

My poor parents, brothers, roommates, and now Steven have fallen victim to this classic prank.

Don't you want a fake arm now? I know how you feel. It's OK. No one has to know.
(P.S. I am not a freak)