Friday Night Fun
“Is this what it’s come to?” Hannah asked, lowering her head so that it rested on the back cushions of our couch. “Is this Friday night at the Kitagawa’s house?”
As you might recall one of the Ant Rules that I follow requires that, on my bicycle commutes to and from the Centre for Environmental Business and Advocacy and Balloons, I pick up littered returnable beverage containers. For any Ephemeral Tourist who does not reside in a jurisdiction with beverage container deposit legislation, “returnable beverage container” is the legal term for pop cans or bottles with a refundable deposit paid on them, claimed when the drink packaging is taken to a bottle depot facility.
“Guess how many returnable beverage containers I picked up today, Hannah,” I said to my wife when Episode 3 of the National Film Board’s mini-series The War of 1812 concluded.
“How many?” she asked.
“Guess,” I repeated.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s why you have to guess,” I explained.
“Five.”
“Higher.”
“Ten.”
“Higher.”
“Twenty.”
“Lower.”
“Fifteen.”
“Higher.”
“Eighteen.”
“Right.” Hannah hung her head and made the exclamation at the opening of this post.
“Wasn’t that fun?” I asked.
It was funny.
As you might recall one of the Ant Rules that I follow requires that, on my bicycle commutes to and from the Centre for Environmental Business and Advocacy and Balloons, I pick up littered returnable beverage containers. For any Ephemeral Tourist who does not reside in a jurisdiction with beverage container deposit legislation, “returnable beverage container” is the legal term for pop cans or bottles with a refundable deposit paid on them, claimed when the drink packaging is taken to a bottle depot facility.
“Guess how many returnable beverage containers I picked up today, Hannah,” I said to my wife when Episode 3 of the National Film Board’s mini-series The War of 1812 concluded.
“How many?” she asked.
“Guess,” I repeated.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s why you have to guess,” I explained.
“Five.”
“Higher.”
“Ten.”
“Higher.”
“Twenty.”
“Lower.”
“Fifteen.”
“Higher.”
“Eighteen.”
“Right.” Hannah hung her head and made the exclamation at the opening of this post.
“Wasn’t that fun?” I asked.
It was funny.