Bill sat down and laughed at my antics as the kids beat me at their game. I could see he was itching to get back up there and whack that ball. He looked next door at our Bosnian neighbor who speaks limited English. Bill called his name. "You. Me." Hand motions of a power hit, a finger wiggle to come on...that's all it took. These two guys played as though they were competing for an Olympic gold medal. They socked each other in the head a time or two with that ball; they laughed, grunted, strained, wound that rope to within an inch and then managed to undo it over and over again. We sat on the patio laughing ourselves silly. I don't know who won, but by the time the game ended, they were both panting and clutching their chests. Silly boys preening and strutting their stuff...for two days now.
Sometimes I think we writers are like this. We sit back and observe, test the waters and then jump right in, fist pump at our success, smile for a few days. All it takes is a challenge, a prompt or a call for submission. I'm wiggling my finger at you. Come take the challenge. Won't you send me a story on the topic of family? I want the down and dirty. Don't send me sweet and fluffy. If you short-sheeted your brother, swiped your sisters boyfriend, scared your crazy aunt out of the bathtub...write about it. I'll help you edit before you sumbit to the database if you want. Guidelines above for: Not Your Mother's Book...On Family, and also NYMB...on Being a Mom, and also NYMB...on Being an Expectant Mom. They have over 35 titles in development...dogs, cats, kids, grandkids. Check it out.
12 comments:
Your little blurb at the end gave me a story idea for NYMB. Thanks.
Linda, it's nice to see that Bill has reached the maturity level of a 13-year old boy. (That's where men max out, maturity-wise.)
Getting hit in the head is no problem for your hubby. I imagine his head is as hard as well-seasoned concrete.
So, he likes to whack balls? Interesting...
You all must have needed new ribs by the end of the afternoon, from laughing. The two sportsmen, too, for other reasons.
I love this post! That Bill is something else. And I may have a story for one of the NYMB, maybe the expectant mom one since I'm reached that point in my pregnancy where I'm really feelin' it!
I spent years with junior high aged boys...little did I know I would meet them all again in retirement.....
I'll be rising to your challenge as the summer unfurls before me. Friday is my last day of work.
My dad and his cronies started a night-time old men's basketball league at my high school when he was 40. The whole nine yards: little black gym bag, gray sweatpants, exposed fish-belly-white old man legs. I thought it was scandalous. When I think back on it now, he was barely out of the cradle.
I'm convinced that boys never grow up. They are all permanent Peter Pans!
Pat
Critter Alley
Funny story... and oh yeah, NYMB. I really am working on it.
Sounds a lot of fun and a great way to get fit and get to know your neighbours better.
I love that Bill and the neighbor were speaking the same language....
Men are just good fun, at any age.
And I think I submitted. Didn't I? :-)
Pearl
Ha! That was a good post, Linda. The guys were really competitive. What a riot.
Hope you have a good Thursday!
Thanks for all your faithful visits and comments on my blog. I SO appreciate you. Susan
Had to laugh - have had a few family gatherings like this over the years.
I need to give this more thought; I am sure there is some family story I could write about.
Happy weekend!
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