(no subject)
We’re hosting a potluck dinner tonight, and for whatever reason my dad and I were fighting again; I think it was related to my insistence that we need some rock salt for the walkways because they are already a little icy and they are just going to get worse. (Our fights mostly consist of short jabs to the tits and kidneys, you know, really going for the vitals.) I tell him, "Hey, no roughhousing in front of the guests," as I punch him repeatedly.
Then he appeals to one of our oldest family friends, "Phyllis, Luke’s punching me!"
In what may go down as one of my smoothest moments ever, I stand there with a just-been-axed-between-the-eyes kind of blank stare, punch him again, and say, "No I’m not!"
Then he appeals to one of our oldest family friends, "Phyllis, Luke’s punching me!"
In what may go down as one of my smoothest moments ever, I stand there with a just-been-axed-between-the-eyes kind of blank stare, punch him again, and say, "No I’m not!"