Jasper, whom I consider an intellectual, decides it’s not a party till there’s a fight, so we box. He’s mostly a jab man, I’m more of an uppercut-hook kinda gal. Admittedly, he’s fascinated by his own footwork. A circular chase ensues, he after me, then me after him, with sudden directional changes. He’s five. My equal.
I pictured you boxing with someone more your age, perhaps older. I love the last two sentences.ReplyDelete
Charming. You AND Jasper!ReplyDelete
Brilliant turn here. And yes, I was imagining you sparing with someone a little like Robert Carlyle for some reason.ReplyDelete
I'm so glad he's five! I was getting worried there...ReplyDelete