Boy Meets House

I’m working away here in the basement: type, type, type. BOOM! My whole house shakes. Destiny bolts (really). I run upstairs thinking Baby Kitty has knocked over a chair again. Nope, he’s under a chair staring out the front window. I’m now thinking I probably have a bird the size of a pterodactyl unconscious on my lawn – from hitting the glass maybe? I hear kids talking excitedly and now I’m sure that there must be something interesting out there.

I open the door to find three kids on roller skates. One has a very stunned look on his face, almost ready to cry. I asked if he was OK. “I don’t have brakes, I was going too fast, I thought I’d use one of your poles to stop and I just ran into it instead” …. With his face. I sat him down, iced him up and talked about his future plans to be a lawyer or policeman. His sister is going to be a model or a singer and his brother is going to play football or be a rapper. He really is going to have only a fat lip and probably a colorful cheek. He’s lucky that he has a hard head and I’m lucky the carport didn’t come down – this place rocked when he and the pole met.