Evil Ball Plans
“Yep! You know, the British sport that’s kind of like – “
“We know what it is!” we shouted at him, and turned back to breakfast.
“You always take it out on me – I haven’t done anything to you,” Cricket murmured, and continued searching for his precious birdie.
“Quite the contrary,” Lin grumbled, taking a fork out of her food. “You’ve been dragging us hither tither for more than a day.”
“It’s all in good sport,” Cricket said, smiling brightly.
We both turned to glare at him – under the onslaught of our glowers, he slunk away back to his search.
Breakfast was eaten slowly, lazily – almost languidly.
The only sound audible was the silverware.
That, of course, gave me time to think.
What’s he going to do with the ball? Why are we playing badminton – or something faintly related to it?
I decided to drop the questions for now.
“Now, ladies, would anyone like to guess what thoughts I’m having?”
Uh oh. He found it.
“I think your train of thought is a runaway,” I stated.