We’ve owned it… what? Two days now?
Oh sure. It was bound to happen. Vicky and I make a family of klutzes. We’re going to have to pad the walls when we have a child because, odds are, she will be colliding with everything.
Don’t believe me?
Whenever you load a game in the Wii, it displays a screen cautioning you to basically CLEAR THE AREA. There’s a whole lot of swinging and flailing going on; you have to be careful.
And we were… for the first day.
Last night, Vicky had made herself a Bahama Mama (of sorts). She was introduced to Bahama Mamas while we were in the Bahamas and now makes Bahama Mamas (of sorts) at home whenever she… is home…Well, she likes them when it’s hot and it’s summer and – oh fuck it.
Anyway, she made herself a Bahama Mama (of sorts) last night and put it on the table just as she took the Wii controller.
Yes, I should have warned her – but this is Vicky we’re talking about here. VICKY!
She was playing tennis… and she swung. And swung.
And swung her hand right into the glass, spilling Bahama Mama (of sorts) and ice all over the damned place!
For just a split second, I could see that look on her face: My drink! My beautiful drink!
Yes, her Bahama Mama (of sorts) was history and I was running for the paper towels. But I couldn’t stop laughing because, torn between her booze and her tennis game, she failed utterly at both.
But she held back her tears.
Held them back.
Held them – for just a minute… and made herself another Bahama Mama (of sorts).
(Then, she kicked my ass at golf.)