Gone, (Probably) Soon to Be Forgotten
We had a family garage sale this weekend. Matt and I had a few things in it, so we said we'd help out. We show up on Saturday with the computer (Matt had, naturally, made a spreadsheet program to keep track of who had earned what money), and there's this little crossbow on the table where people would come to pay for things. It has about ten little metal crossbow bolts that are actually kind of sharp. Apparently this was my dad's, and they were trying to sell it while also keeping it out of the hands of small roving children.
So, of course, Matt had to have it. He and I have tried to learn regular archery in the past (though generally we practice diligently for about three days and then quit for months when we get too busy). But we brought this crossbow home and set the target up in the backyard last night. Matt lines up with it, shoots, and the bolt flies over the target into the grass. We go looking for it, but it's nowhere to be found. I'm thinking, Well, he has a bad eye--I can surely do better. So I set up, shoot . . . and there's another lost in the grass.
We can't find them. They're about as long as my hand and not brightly colored at all. And our backyard is full of bermuda grass that will grow into a jungle in about three days. I think the only people who will find them are some futuristic archaeologists, who will probably dub our yard the site of some very small battle.
So, of course, Matt had to have it. He and I have tried to learn regular archery in the past (though generally we practice diligently for about three days and then quit for months when we get too busy). But we brought this crossbow home and set the target up in the backyard last night. Matt lines up with it, shoots, and the bolt flies over the target into the grass. We go looking for it, but it's nowhere to be found. I'm thinking, Well, he has a bad eye--I can surely do better. So I set up, shoot . . . and there's another lost in the grass.
We can't find them. They're about as long as my hand and not brightly colored at all. And our backyard is full of bermuda grass that will grow into a jungle in about three days. I think the only people who will find them are some futuristic archaeologists, who will probably dub our yard the site of some very small battle.