this somehow leads to him making a sound with his mouth that is reminiscent of a tennis ball hitting the court. which, in turn, leads to me grunting huh...huh...huyuh, like a tennis player hitting the ball.
we do this for awhile and then stop and the conversation proceeds without our acknowledging having done this.
and then, after a few minutes of discussion about something else, he says, you know that was pretty special. that thing we were doing there with the tennis.
and, like the little girl that i still sometimes am, i say, let's do it again, fatherbear, let's do it again. you be the balls and i'll be the player.
and we do it again.
after which he says, with total sincerity, let's save this and surprise your mother on christmas.
so yes, this year for christmas, debo is getting, from her husband of 41 years and her 35 year old daughter, a special presentation of the sounds of tennis.
she'll either think this is the worst thing ever or be disappointed that we left her out.
because we can none of us stand the possibility that any of the others are having fun without us, i'm assuming the latter and have already accounted for it. she can be the other player, i'll play against her, i tell garebear, if she wants in.
oh you know she'll want in, he says. who wouldn't want to be a part of this?!