When Joe Fisher, aka "mans best friend", was a little Fisher in training,
everything that was remotely round was a "ball"-- somewhere along the line it
took because he is still the baseball player I had envisioned....
The "Pottamus Rex", who resides not only at my house but also ranks in the
top 10 list of my favorite family members (number 5 in the charts but number 1 in my heart), has got the same thing going on--- everything remotely round is a ball and could or should be thrown, hurled, or otherwise moved thru the air--
The most recent evidence of this is not last night while we were throwing the little rubber bouncy ball while I watched John Wayne's' "Mclintock" on TV, but today right after grocery shopping.
While Grandma, Mom and myself were putting up groceries--"Himself" decided to warm up in his own bullpen, taking every single cherry and better boy tomato from their moorings and hurling them from the confines of the back deck into the backyard and lower driveway below...
Every tomato.
All of them.
I arranged the carnage (think My Lai massacre) on the driveway in hopes that maybe the birds,
raccoons, or other wildlife may end up with the tomato sandwich that was destined for us......I thought maybe facing them east and blowing "Taps" may be appropriate.
Grandma, still in shock at this very moment, said "I can't believe he threw out all my tomatoes..."
Believe it, G ma.
If not now, then you will certainly realize it when you bite into your white bread and mayonnaise sandwich--
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