Time: Early Friday evening
Scene: Matt walks in the house while I’m walking on the treadmill, says “Hi”. I get through walking about 10 minutes later and can’t find Matt anywhere in the house.
Txt to Matt:
Matt walks back in, rattles around in the kitchen, and starts toward the door again. In his hands, he carries one (1) quart of moonshine, one (1) fifth of Crown Royal and some Solo cups.
Matt: I’ll try not to burn anything down.
me: Are you burning trash or dead limbs in the back yard tonight?
Matt: No, I’m heading over to J.R.’s [our nephew who lives in the woods behind us] for a little while.
me: Are you coming back [eyeing the alcohol]?
Matt: Yes, later tonight.
Fifteen minutes later: BOOM! It was the sound of the “homemade” golf ball cannon being fired from J.R.’s house.
I turned up the volume of Prison Wives on TV.
Easing our way into the weekend, one redneck activity at a time.