The team is into ninjas lately, always sneaking around and jumping out at me. I feel a bit like Inspector Clouseau, with my own version of Cato lurking around the corner, poised to attack. This experience is honing my ninja-like reflexes. I'm constantly listening for strange sounds to tip me off to their location--their mouth-breathing, the creak of the stairs, the footstep. Conversely, I'm a lousy ninja, my crackling knee joints make sneaking around impossible, so I'm on the defensive all the time.
Speaking of heavy breathing, Mr. G's hyperventilating from excitement as the first of his birthday gifts arrived in the mail. The kid cannot stand the excitement. The countdown to his big day continues. We still don't know when to cram his party into the schedule between games and tournaments, so I'm hyperventilating a little, too.
Early Sunday morning I sat in the library working on Monday's Eco Women post when I heard a steady whooshing noise, like Darth Vader was right above me. I looked out the window and behold!
I ran outside to get a closer look and heard the whooshing noise right above me--so I craned my neck back and saw another one:
Right above my head like that.
They blasted fire into the balloon while it lay on its side, eventually giving it the lift it needed.
And then that balloon floated away.
Spill it, reader. What's got you breathing heavy lately?
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