Last night we were chilling around the house with Layla the crazy dog. As is not unusual, Diane and I are sitting on our couch watching some bad television . Diane was throwing the ball across the room and Layla would bring it back.
What the hell, if I can ride the trainer in the living room, what’s a little indoor fetch between friends?
Last night’s game started to take a different turn when I said to Diane, “ I bet you can’t throw it over the table!”
She smiled that cute devil may care smile at me, and proceeded to fire the ball across the family room to the dining area. The ball bounced on the table and cleared out a couple of water bottles and a thing of Teflon chain lube.
Layla brought the ball back and placed it in Diane’s hand. “ I’ll make it this time” She fired the ball again, this time with a little more velocity, but a similar result as the ball hit the table. It sounded like she was bowling as the various items that live on our kitchen table were knocked down violently.
The ball bounced onto the floor, and Layla brought it back to Diane. “nice shot noodle arm” I quip to her. Diane smiles at me, “one last shot” and she proceeds to fire away, clearing the table.
Layla chases down the ball, and places it in her hand. I smile at Diane and tauntingly say to her, “bet you can’t get it over the table and into the kitchen”
Again with the Devil may care look, as Diane winds up and fires away. First shot, she cleared the table, and through the small opening in our dining room, and into the kitchen proper.
“No way you can do that again…” Layla trots back into the room and drops the ball at Diane’s feet.
She picks up the ball, winds up and fires. Once again the ball speeds over the table, through the dining room and through the small gap that opens up to the kitchen…
Layla chases down the ball and excitedly brings it back to Diane. She nods at me, in gentle feminine chest thumping kind of way…
“No way you can throw the ball up and over the railing and up stairs.” I taunt her.
Diane picks up the ball, aims toward the upstairs and fires. The ball hits the top of the railing and bounces back the floor.
Layla grabs the ball and places it back in Diane’s hand.
“ a little more English” I say to her encouragingly…
Diane stands up, cocks way back and throws the ball as hard as she can. She fires the ball towards the second floor of the house. It flies well past the railing across the hall way and smashes a wedding photo that was hung in the walk way.
With the loud crashing of shattering glass, Layla sits down obediently looking at Diane for some sign of what to do next.
Diane looks at me. I have to be honest I couldn’t tell if she was going to bust into to tears or laughter.
It’s been that kind of week, you know.
In a moment of pure emotion and joy, Diane burst in to tears laughing. I joined her as we both crumpled to the floor.
I threw out the mandatory “ You shouldn't play ball in the house!”
We spent the next half hour cleaning up the glass shrapnel that was all over the hallway upstairs.
While picking up the broken glass from a wedding picture, Diane looked up, placing a sliver of glass into the box I was holding and with a smile and says to me, “Happy Valentine’s Day Baby…”
respect
Fatmarc Vanderbacon
4 comments:
I like the use of a skinsuit while riding a trainer. I personally find this to be the best us of one (cause it is down the basement, out of site!).
Perfect way to spend any evening. Good read. 4 legged friends rule.
Release...
im fucking crying now. thanks.
(might be one of the best posts ever)
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