the war continues

He'll call soon. I am supposed to be much more ready than I am
BUT
lower left buttock.


A story obviously got in the way. One I must tell him in a minute.



It's the her story of a long held grudge between two women of separate families.
One a blonde maiden, the other a brunette.
The talented, the less.
Short stop. Left field.
She was faster and always laughing and still today we are children.


But back then (she says not thirty-eight years ago)
But don't trust her (she stole my glove and threw it over the fence)
And though I didn't vow on that day to pay her back thirty-eight years later,
It is funny to now watch and be a part of a vendetta which has lasted because we call it a friendship.



I told her that the daughters must pay for the sins of their mothers in a not so accurately quoted religious way, and she laughs the same laugh she did as a kid. And then I laugh because she's got a great laugh. The kind of person you're always trying to tell a joke to. You know.


Anyway. This is one I will tell the girls and watch them as I try to twist and twirl the words.


The talented now has a talented daughter and I am the proud but temporary owner of my brother's child who is the only one faster on a team of gifted young women. This here is a setup for the perfect revenge and for two years we have openly discussed the moment when my niece will run with the might of many horses and within a blur of what was that snatch the glove from the opposing woman's child.

We envisioned it, and the morale of this story may be that we should stick to the plan because a deviation of me taking the place of my niece against the second fastest horse on the team did not work out so well. Unless, of course, you consider the laughter and me taking a face plant into the grass. You should never allow anyone to video the moments immediately after you say the words, "No. I got this, Jess."

And she smiled.
And Hannah pushed record.

And I told my kid that the video is his Christmas present.
And he laughed until he cried as I told him the story tonight.

Because I tiptoed up to that young woman with the confidence of when I was ten years old and thirty eight years later that can get funny. I don't know if she heard or smelled me but she did jump when she turned around and we faced off like two old west gun slingers. Her with that glove. Me wanting it figuring I'd throw it to Jess once I got my hand on it. And I really thought I could until the slow motion moments after she disappeared in a flash to her left and I bent then pushed off from my same until that side's buttock area happened in a way I can't quite explain or even still understand other than my left lower extremity was no longer of any use to me.

The people watching said I rolled and I must have because I was covered in grass and tears from laughing. Hannah said that to someone who had not understood what was happening, it surely looked like I had been shot. And yes, life is fantastic but once again we have another episode of me getting too old to act like that.

But I still will.
Because one of the things I am most grateful for is his, hers, theirs, yours, and yes my own laughter.


The thirty-eight year war continues. There are no treaties.