Thank you for joining me once again. I apologize for the lack of a second post on Friday, but we really had a lot of fun with our good friends, and wore ourselves out. We went on a little tour around town. Unfortunately the Konza was closed for repairs, due to damage done by the storms we had a couple weeks ago. However, that did not stop us from seeing the flint hills. We drove over plenty of hills on our way to Pillsbury Crossing, which is a shallow ford across Deep Creek, just outside of town. It was quite crowded with people, and we saw a cardboard canoe race, probably projects from an engineering class at Kansas State University.
Since there were so many people, we decided to leave and wound up back at the apartment, where we fed Dottie (Ashley's Chameleon) a large horn worm caterpillar. It took a couple of shots with her tongue, but Dottie snagged her snack, and ate it too. We played with Soccer too, gently kicking his youth sized soccer ball around the livingroom (Soccer is great at defense). After that, we and our friends went to meet another good friend who we hadn't seen in a while at Radina's, a local coffee shop. We talked for hours. It was a wonderful experience, and we hope to see each other again, soon. Ideally less than six months from now.
It is Serial Sunday, and now, without further digression, on with the story.
On the Mend (part 8)
“Alright, Alex,” Samantha said, “just let me finish this chapter.”
“It’s a short one,” she said, flipping several pages until she found the next chapter. That’s a few more pages than I anticipated, “besides it’s getting really steamy.”
“Oh, fine.” She quickly read until the end of the page, put in the bookmark, and set the book on the end table before heading to the dining room with a sigh.
Alex stacked the Plate of french toast on top of two other plates, and brought them to the table.
“Two plates?” she asked, “you said you weren’t hungry, earlier.”
“Minds are subject to change.”
“Just serve the food.” Sam winked, and took the empty plate when he handed it to her.
“Okay. Okay.” Alex placed three pieces of toast onto her plate, and two pieces onto his own.
“Guess that hunger got to you. Where’s the syrup?”
“Oh. Dang. I’ll go grab it.”
“Hurry before it’s cold.”
“Go stick your head in the oven,” he laughed.
Sam got up from her seat, and rushed him playfully. “We’ll see who’s head gets stuck in the oven.”
Alex grabbed the bottle of syrup and brandished it. “You’ll have to unstickify yourself, before you’ll put my head in the oven.”
“Just give me the syrup, so I can eat my french toast. Before it gets cold,” she said, reaching for the bottle.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, trying to hold it out of reach.
“Come on,” she said, standing on her tippy toes.
“Say the magic word.”
“Ok,” he said, still holding it out of her reach.
“My toast had better not be cold,” she said, stretching out as far as she could.
“I’ll heat it up for you,” he said, stealing a kiss as she pressed against him.
“That will wait until after breakfast,” she said, pushing him away, and pointing at him.
“Here you go, Sammie.”
“Thank you. Now. Let’s eat.”
Be sure to come back next week.
Today's Challenge: Smile, life is much too short to be glum.