"...stars and moons flew past me as I fell," Trinidad told me, wide-eyed after a fall.
Sam's poetry vernacular dictated and scribbled onto a recipe card stuck to the refrigerator last year: "I sneakily hid and ate a piece of chocolate."
"Why did the intestine cross the road?" Sam asked me tonight. I shook my head and shrugged.
His eyes narrowed. "Because he didn't have the guts."
And finally, the paddle ball.
Sam got a cheap version of this classic toy at our local credit union as a "prize" for saving money under duress. He played with it for hours determined to strike it more than four times in a row.
"What if you could play paddleball infinitely?" he asked.
"What if?" I answered.
"That would be impossible," he said.
"Are you sure?" I asked. "What if an alternate universe opened its space and time to you right now and all you did was play and play and play paddleball...infinitely?"
I looked around me at the grocery lists, emails up for response, laundry to fold, and chickens waiting for their daily scraps. "Would it be so different?" I asked. "Sounds a lot like what I do all day."
Sam looked at me hard
and did not disagree.
3 comments:
That made me laugh. Paddle ball, I think we had those. Max was never so physical--but video games. I found out that my dad was a secret video game freak--it was too funny hearing that old grizzly growl about rescuing Princess Zelda.
Bad jokes and puns. You certainly have your entertainment! I miss you and the boys. Crazy with job interviewing, but things might settle down. (yeah, right.)
Hugs for you, though, m'dear. Keep writing!
love from me!
greetings from your ol' friend Lila...glad to see you're writing. It's so strange how life ends up - who'd of thought...in LA - new job new life yet also oddly the same (on the inside)...glad to see you're living a blessed life.
Lila! So funny, I've been thinking of you. Never cut the cord, I guess.:)
Do you have a new phone #? Email me at k2collier@msn.com and I'll give you mine -- it's new.
love,love
Post a Comment