Baseball Bats And Ballpoint Pens
By Shane Alexander Greenhough
Copyright 2012 Shane Alexander Greenhough
Brett swung the baseball bat at his wife’s head. She ducked with a scream and the well-aimed shot whizzed over, millimetres from concussion.
He really does love her.
“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, hopping away from a second swing.
Crystal didn’t consider a demented grin to be much of an answer, but it seemed to be all she would get.
“Crazy, son-of-a –”
“Ah-ha,” he cried out, triumphantly, “got you.”
Seriously, he does love her.
Crystal fell down – as one is wont to do, given the circumstances – and rolled onto her back to look up at him with whirling eyes.
“What. Are. You. Doing?” she punctuated each syllable with a surprisingly steady voice. Brett called that “mother mode” and it made him wish they’d had kids.