Yesterday was a day for #2 Son to do some hard time. We sent him out to the rock pile, kind of like a chain gang, without a chain. We have a basketball hoop that is cemented into the ground. I put it in many years ago for #1 Son to play basketball, and challenge me to a game or two. I would whup his ass, then crawl into the house, the winner! He would walk in, wondering why I was laying on the floor! He would sweat a little, I would pant.
Recently, the pole started to bend from the rust of the many years of not using it. I pulled down the backboard and hoop, and placed it on the ground, where I will disassemble it. The pole is #2 Son’s to dig out and break up. Easily said, very difficult to do!
I issued a sledgehammer and chisel. The hammer is a short handle, because that is all I have. After a few hours of banging away, he announced; “I’m going to call my ‘X’, her father has a long handle sledgehammer, to do the job.
?
‘X’?
I didn’t think he was ever married, let alone a divorce! Me, I’m still working with my ‘A’. This fact begs the questions: “Were there any children involved, and who has custody?” and “I hope they’re not coming to live here!”
As far as the basketball labor goes, we decided to bury the darn thing, rather than try to break up the huge cement blob that sits at the bottom of the hole.
I instructed him to carefully lay the dirt when he digs, next to the hole, not to spread it all over the driveway. That is what he did, too, all over the driveway. Nice! You know you can’t legally put a 21-year old up for adoption!
Please remember all those that need our hopes and prayers, including the Polish prince, my brother-in-law, John.
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