Sunday, February 26, 2012

A scene from my day

9:08 AM.  Sunday.  Quiet, peaceful, John Hughes movie on TV.  Last 3 WhoNu (pseudo-healthy) cookies in hand, glass of milk waiting for serious dunking.

Bliss. Full.

From basement:  Wha-thump.  Wha-thump.  WHA-THUMP.

Me:  If I ignore it, it will stop.

From basement:  Wha-thump-thump.  Wha-thump-thump-THUMP!

Me:  Clearly these children don't worship at the alter of 80s popculture icons.

Husband wanders in from bedroom, pondering thumping noise.

Me:  Sigh.  G!  You're 8 years old!  KEEP YOUR BALLS OFF THE WALL!

Husband:  Snicker... snicker snicker snicker.

Me:  Did that just happen?

It's always a good idea to start your sunny Sunday morning with Molly Ringwald and accidental rude language aimed at your perfectly innocent 8 year old and his dueling tennis balls.

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