(Yet another text conversation gone wrong.)
Ryan: There’s nothing like the smell of spring practice. The dead grass…the ridiculous parental expectations.
Me: Has any one talked, yet, about the time they “went to state”?
Ryan: Fortunately, those parents are all at Pop Warner. There actually aren’t that many parents here. It’s quiet. Too quiet…
Me: Ruh Roh. That’s how it always is right before someone trips over what they think is a helmet, and it turns out to be a severed human head.
Ryan: Megan…
Me: Yes…
Ryan: Stop binge watching Bones. Immediately.
Fisticuffs and Shenanigans 