I came home today. Home Home.
I love coming home. I have friends who relentlessly make fun of the fact that I love my small town upbringing and that I would seriously consider moving back if I weren't single. Of course, if they had my family, I think that they would love this place too.
Instead of driving down the interstate, I did one of my all time favorite things- I just drove back roads in the direction that I knew should be home and I let my instincts guide me. I knew my internal homing device would not fail me.
As I am getting out of my car, I hear Melissa, freshly home for spring break, yelling "Beth's home." Momma came to the door to greet me, but as I hugged her I looked over her shoulder and saw daddy with the shotgun.
Shotguns are reserved for Thanksgiving and Christmas holiday target practice. We were all required to learn how to shoot by aiming at beach balls across the yard or at mistletoe up in a tree. (I joke not.)
Apparently tonight, two neighborhood dogs followed momma home on her walk. My parents don't need another dog; the two they have are needy enough. But anyone else would have just waited until for the dogs to leave, which I am sure they would have. These two poor mutts had the bad misfortune of coming home on a day that daddy was feeling trigger happy. He was almost giddy as he raced from the back porch to the front door firing shots into the cool of sunset. I have never seen two dogs take off faster.
Rebecca is bring her boyfriend Bobby home on Sunday. I just hope that Momma remembers to hide the shotguns from daddy.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment