“I’m in!” I say and hustle outside from my parents’ living room to the street, where we’ll be having a vigorous game of egg toss.
Wow. Rare indeed to get applause, for doing something as simple as showing up and participating in a little game. Reason enough to go to the family homestead for Easter dinner.
Had I ever played egg toss before? Don’t think so. My partner, nephew Devin, went through college on football scholarship. Special teams and receiver. I was pretty sure he could catch the egg. But could I? Took off my pink boa to get down to business.
No pressure at all, right?
We are a competitive bunch when it comes to fun. No creative spellings allowed in Scrabble. In Taboo, children are allowed a gimme only if they truly do not know the word. So while I voted to give Carson a pass on the word “sulk” the consensus was: NOPE. He knows the word, tough tooties.
We’re lined up in the street tossing our eggs. Toss. Catch. Step back. Toss.
SPLAT. Alicia’s egg breaks first. In her hands. I thought if you caught it, it wouldn’t break. Wrong. “You need to have soft hands,” say the footballers.
I’m laughing so hard it feels like I’ve been doing sit-ups for an hour. Smile muscles in the back of my head hurt. SPLAT. Egg all over Cullen’s pants. He pretends to be upset. Carson has taken off his shoes just in case.
My turn to toss. I know Devin can catch, all I have to do is get it to him…Sabrina has “rifled it” and slammed mucked up Cullen’s pants.
I’m underhanded all the way…well in my tossing anyway…And decide to go for loft. Devin is under the egg, but…
THE TREE!! How could we not have noticed the tree above the street? My egg goes up into the tree, breaks on the branches into several pieces.
Nice to feel like a winner even when you aren’t.