It was kind of a weird Friday night in the driveway. For one thing, we lost another 185 shots to the promise of a million made, documented free throws, as the camera shut down at 315 and I didn’t realize it until checking in at 500. Started over at 316 and went to 1,000, but you know … that tends to be deflating.
The comic relief — or foreshadowing of a Cummings family horror story to come, you pick — came during the following exchange between Rosie and me. Not sure what’s most amusing/chilling — the general premise of the conversation, my frozen-faced attempt at English, or Rosie’s response.
You may laugh, or you may be inclined to call child protective services.
It was at this point that it did strike me, if for only just a moment, that The Beautiful Heth and Earlene (her mom) might very well be duct taped to a couple of chairs inside, but then I figured Noah would probably have let me know by now if that were the case.
And if you were looking for a translation to that conversation, during which I said something to the effect of, “Icta zhu-zhu anigh?” … I believe this was the actual script:
Rosie: Can I use a knife?
Dave: Can you use a knife?
Dave: You mean a butter knife?
Rosie: No, I mean a … knife.
Dave (with emphasis): No.
Rosie (with even more emphasis): Oh-KAY!
Um, I don’t really know what to say about that, so I guess I’ll stop writing. Oh, except to point out that we were back outside this morning (no knifeplay this time), for 1,500 in our fastest time yet: an hour and 37 minutes. That’s 545,507 down, 454,493 to go to 1 million made foul shots.