Page 14 of Sideline Play

DUCKING**

Jesus Christ… I hate autocorrect

Scarlet

??????

Ro-Boat

??????

Squeaks, she looked so sad when I didn’t get her one. I had to go back

Scarlet

Admit it, you LOVE my dog

Ro-Boat

Never! That chicken shit gives Dobermans everywhere a bad name

Scarlet

WAIT!!!

Are you saying you already gave her one???!!!

And Winnie is NOT a chicken shit!!! You take that back!!! ??

Ro-Boat…

Ro…

Roman

ROMAN ELIJAH JONES!! YOU ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW!!!

Daddy

Fuck… Let me go see if I can same day deliver gas masks…

Ro-Boat

??????

Plotting my revenge, I toss my phone and keys on the counter alongside the drink carrier and massive bags filled with Chick-fil-A I picked up in lieu of popping one of Mary Anne’s meticulously balanced and portioned premade dinners for us in the oven.

Glancing at the chore chart and deciding I also don’t want to do dishes tonight, I grab a stack of paper plates from one of the drawers and throw them up on the island’s counter and begin unboxing and plating everyone’s food.

“Fingers off my fries!” Roman shouts just as I’m about to pop a massive waffle cut fry into my mouth under the guise of taxes.

Smirking as I eat it anyway, I squat to the floor as the sound of precious puppy feet without traction on the hard floors echoes from down the hall.

“And to think, I brought you one of those raspberry blondies you like.”

“Really?” I ask hopefully around my mouthful just as 70 pounds of pure puppy love tackles me. Ruffling Winnie’s ears as her little stump of a tail wiggles with such ferocity it looks like her butt is shimmying, I coo, “Did you have a good day with Uncle Roman?”

Laughing as she licks my face, I respond, “I know he did. That’s because he’s a bad influence. Letting you have whipped cream, shame.” Meeting her dopey, brown eyes, I melt completely as she rests her chin on my shoulder. Smoothing my hand along her fur, I ask, “What else did you do? He didn’t use you to pick anyone up again, did he?”

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