improv

So, my son and I are driving down a quiet, neighborhood street,
when he notices a garage door is left open, the light is on, and the back door to the garage is yawning wide.


Pondering, he considers what may have happened.

So, I say, "maybe the driver came home from work and forgot the laundry hanging on the clothesline, and sprinted toward the backyard."

He says, "well, I think the driver spotted the rare woodpecker that was seen in Shoreview and he's running to the backyard to observe it."

"No, that can't be," I say.  "I think it's a homeowner who was being chased by a neighbor who is always playing practical jokes and he's run to the backyard to retaliate before being hit by a paint ball."

"Uh huh, Mom," he retorts, "the person sees Mitt Romney skydive down and land in his backyard and he wants to talk."

Bursting out laughing, I continue to drive on my way with my son to his den meeting for Boy Scouts.

Conversation.  Have some!