Out at King and Pat's house, their granddaughter Alyssa was staying with them for a few days. She and I get along pretty well because we have the same mental development level. (Actually, she's the smarter of the two of us.) Anyway, she surprised me by drawing my portrait in chalk. Which I thought was pretty cool.
Not only did she get it right, with the beard and the HD shirt, but she also put flames all behind me. Maybe a Rembrandt in the making?
At some point after this, she and I had our annual water balloon fight. That was all well and good (I kicked her butt), but I'd forgotten about the super-soaker portion of the battle. That's the part where we start with loaded water cannons and try to soak each other. The important part (which I had also forgotten), was that we use the same bucket to refill the water cannons. And this places us only about a foot apart from each other. So you can guess what happens; we stand there like motards, filling our cannons and blasting them into each other's head, repeatedly. It's an ugly scene (there are no winners in water cannon warfare).
After a thorough soaking on both parts, we retired the cannons until next year. Alyssa went into the house to dry off and change, while I went to King's garage to retrieve my own set of dry jeans from my duffel bag.
It was at this point that I realized my duffel bag - and all my clothes - were still on my bike...in Jamestown...52 miles to the west.
Why was my bike in Jamestown, 52 miles to the west? Stay tuned...
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