“What are those squeaky noises I’m hearing?” Maga asked.
“My front door. I’m just getting home.”
“Where were you?”
“Softball game.”
“Oh, that’s why you didn’t call. I called you today because it’s Tuesday or Wednesday and I was talking to your mom and she asked if you called and I said no not yet and so I called you.”
“Yes, I got your voicemail. I’m sorry I couldn’t talk until now. I was at softball.”
“How’d the game go?”
“We lost by a lot.”
“What was the score?”
“34-17.”
Maga burst into laughter. “Oh my. I didn’t realize that could go so high.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, it can go as high as time allows.”
“It’s Tuesday, right?” Maga asked.
“Yes.”
“And that’s why I called because you hadn’t called yet. What were you doing?”
“I was at a work softball game.”
“What position do you play?”
“Pitcher.”
“How did your team do tonight?”
“We lost. Big time.”
“Some days are like that.”
You know what? She’s right. There are some days you can’t win no matter how hard you try. Sometimes the best you can do is show up. Her pointed comment + her laughter were accurate and, yet, barbed, and so I happily answered her next questions (about upcoming travel) in excess detail just to keep the subject off the horrific softball score.
“You don’t sit around and twiddle your thumbs do you?” Maga said.
“Not these next two weeks, but yes, actually I do. Quite often. Sometimes it’s good to be quiet.”
“I guess you have a point.”
“I try to.”
“What day is today?”
“Tuesday.”
“Oh, yes, I thought so. And then I knew we had to talk cause that was important.”
Her aim may have been off-kilter tonight, but her wisdom kept hitting its target.
Abigail Mumford 