(no subject)
My father came home from work a few minutes ago. I've been heating water for pasta, so we're standing out in the kitchen, talking softly.
The little dog runs out of the living room at full speed, spits a ball on my dad's foot, and runs back out. We both look down at the ball, then out over the counter at where the red fiend is standing, staring at my father with a look of fixed intensity.
"She's so cute."
I look over at my father. He's reaching for the ball.
"Ah, my father, likes pushy women."
He stops cold mid-throw, ball still in his hand.
"I like dogs."
The little dog runs out of the living room at full speed, spits a ball on my dad's foot, and runs back out. We both look down at the ball, then out over the counter at where the red fiend is standing, staring at my father with a look of fixed intensity.
"She's so cute."
I look over at my father. He's reaching for the ball.
"Ah, my father, likes pushy women."
He stops cold mid-throw, ball still in his hand.
"I like dogs."