I returned to my dice game from break, and asked my box lady;
“Did you have one of Bobbie’s Muffins? They were awesome!”
“There were muffins?” Tim asked from third base.
“No, I’m trying to be good.” Christa told me, ignoring Tim.
“There were muffins? I never got a muffin!” Tim looked sad.
“She offered me one, but I’m doing my kettle bell workout.” Christa informed me.
“I never got a muffin!” Tim was pouting.
“I got two!” I said, teasingly.
“So you ate MY muffin.” Tim admonished me.
“I never ate YOUR muffin.” I said in defiance. “I ATE HER MUFFIN!”
As soon as the last word left my lips, I realized what I had just said. I began to shake softly, tears welled up in my eyes, and I had to press my lips hard together, fighting hard to regain composure.
“So is a muffin the same thing here as it is in Texas?” A player to my left asked.
That was it! I could not see the dice through the tears in my eyes, could not call the numbers because I was laughing uncontrollably. The pit clerk ran over with tissues, thinking I was having an allergy attack!
BTW, Bobbie, the muffins were awesome!
I never got a muffin!
Advertisements
