So my sister and her fiancé, Miah, were playing tennis in the park recently. To the right was a child’s modest birthday party centered around a picnic table filled with treats. To the left, in juxtaposition, was another child’s birthday party, literally bouncing with the excitement of a bold and brightly colored space jumper. While lobbing the ball back and forth, Alysson and Miah were becoming more and more aware of the void their court created; a void which separated the children of peaceful budget bondage, from the party of screaming chaotic excitement.
Then it happened…a defector. The leader in a soon-to-follow pack of children starved for freedom bolted out across the tennis court in pursuit of a better life the jumper. He didn’t care what the consequences of his betrayal may be. All he knew was that that bounce house was HIS. He was in a total body sprint, running full on with his head thrown back, knees to the chest, arms pumping and chest heaving with every breath as he yelled, “Last one there is a ROTTEN EEEEEEGG!”
Thirty to forty-five seconds behind him trailed a little runt of a child, moving with half-effort and waddling along granny-run style. In his determination to not be defeated he yells, “First one has to EAT IT!!”