box seats
I was working up here in the office, when gradually a tremendous din impressed itself upon my ears. What could it be?! Why, it was the kids out in the yard, mentioned by Leah in her last post. Only now it wasn't just two of them, it was more like thirty or forty... or at least eight. They were playing football. I didn't know that until I went to the window on the other side of the house and opened it to look out, at which point I also realized that just about all the windows and doors were shut and still the noise was strong enough to rouse me from my contemplation of InDesign. So I watched the game for a while, from the comfort of my bedroom.
As I observed I couldn't help but notice that, rather than following any of the traditional rules of football, the neighbor children and their friends and relatives were operating under the timeless kid rule that whoever is bigger, or alternatively whines louder, gets to make the rules. Also they were playing tackle so nearly every play resulted in a touchdown. Especially because they were allowing unlimited forward passes.
Sadly, too soon after I started watching the game was over, its end marked with angry tears: "Why do you guys always have to quit when we're playing?!" Oh the pathos.