My Hunter-Gatherer Excels

Hick and I headed to school this evening for different reasons. He went to see The Pony play on his Smartypants team, and I went to put things in order after an absence today. I tried to haul my work to the room to listen, but we were late, coming from a funeral service, and the match was already in progress.

Unlike years past, the contestants were not set up around the teacher desk, backs to the door, leaving room for a small audience to enter and spectate. They were facing the door. Like a semi-circle of tooth-gnashing wolves, a sight a bit off-putting, if not downright pants-wetting. An adult man and woman (as opposed to infant man and woman, I suppose, after writing that and not wanting to back up and erase it) sat on the floor of the hall, backs against the painted concrete-block wall. It appeared that they had abandoned all hope, they who had not entered there. A few sets of parents could be observed, gloating along a wall behind the contestants. They must have camped out overnight for those spots.

I started back to my room, and passed Hick, who had just arrived from a stop by his doctor's office for a shot. "They've already started. I'm not dealing with it. I've go work to do."

Hick the big dumb doofus brave warrior opened the unlocked door and entered between quarters as substitutes were switched out. When that match was over, he headed to my classroom to await the start of the next round. Having not partaken of our nighttime repast, both Hick and I were feeling a mite peckish. He headed off to seek a machine soda while I remained 44-oz.-Diet-Cokeless.

"Hey, you can go in the teacher workroom. There's a snack machine. And while you're at it, bring me a little pack of that Sweet and Salty Mix. I think it's D4." That stuff is tasty, full of sunflower seeds, peanuts, raisins, and generic blank M&Ms. Off Hick went, a modern-day hunter-gatherer, in no danger of being gored by a vending machine while plying it with bills.

The Pony came charging through the door. "We won! By a lot. 270 to 60. I only played three quarters, and I scored 110 points. Here. Dad said to bring these to you."

"Wait! Why are there two bags? I only wanted one. I gave him a dollar. I know he didn't spend his own money on me."

"One was stuck. So when he put in money, two came out. Here. I've gotta get back."

Yes. My sweet baboo brought home the bacon x 2. Well...he SENT home the bacon x 2. That's a good quality in a mate.