Something just for fun…well, fun for me.
Waking to a click, static, click, static, click. Tom grabs his dad’s old school walkie-talkie and quickly taps out his code back to Jerry a few doors down. Rolling out of bed, he grabs his cut-offs off the footboard and heads to the bathroom. He would never admit it, but he did brush his teeth and wash his face but combing his wiry curly hair was just pointless. Slipping back to his room he grabs his well-worn sneakers and without turning on the light, he grabs the first shirt he felt laying on the floor and pulls it over his head. Stooping down, Tom ties what is left of his gnawed up shoelaces. Dressed for summer and for this day’s adventure, he is ready to get to it. Slipping out of his room, Tom slinks down the stairs to the kitchen.
Praying that no one is up, with fingers crossed he opens the fridge and there it is… bacon. This is just what he needs to feed today’s childhood hazards. Snatching the bacon and shoving it under his arm, Tom heads to the junk drawer to grab some string. Stuffing the string, a handful of change from his dad’s coin jar, his trusty pocket knife and a Wal-Mart bag into his pockets, he is set to go. Should he leave a note or not, if he doesn’t want to be grounded for the rest of the summer he better leave something. Grabbing a paper towel and a marker Tom quickly scribbles, “fishin’” and leaves it on the kitchen table.
Knowing that the backdoor creaks when it is more than halfway open, Tom carefully squeezes out the door without hitting the rusty noise. Taking a seat on the steps of the back porch he watches for Jerry. Leaning over, Tom checks the scab that he earned yesterday while making a really cool ramp jump on his bike. You can see it clearly even though it is still fairly dark because, as his mom would say, he is so pale he is opaque. It doesn’t hurt but it is kind of gross which makes any 10-year-old boy grin. Looking up, he spots Jerry’s shadow coming down the sidewalk swinging a bucket. Bounding down the rest of the steps, Tom jogs over to Jerry where they proceed to engage in their own personally designed handshake. With grins and mischief in their steps, Tom and Jerry head toward the ditch for a morning of snagging crawfish.
Remember when we actually went outside to play? The good ol’ days.
Find your joy. Be the joy we need. Enjoy the time we have.
New Ink. Used Ideas. 