Backyard Bondage


I might have been joking when I said we should make time to play more cornhole in the backyard.  My wish was simply to spend more calorie-burning time together, that’s all.  I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere suggesting kettlebells, ballroom dancing, geocaching, or urban hiking.  We had just returned from your family’s annual 4th of July Olympics.  We had been rivals for the entire weekend, never matched as a duet in the highly automated team selection process governed by paper name slips.  My performance was predictable to all; my aim is terrible and I tend to throw short.  Luckily, there were a few surprising moments when I managed to sink a bag in the hole like I had planned it strategically three rounds prior to halt the clobbering.

Your family taught me how to play cornhole years ago when we first started dating.  It took a few tosses for me to catch on and hit the board. Keeping score was the next challenge.  If we play more cornhole this spring, I might be able to shock the competition at this year’s 4th of July Olympics.  Better yet, we polish our cornhole techniques and hit the tournament scene.  I’ll pack the toothbrushes while you handle the registrations.  I love the idea of traveling from our backyard to the Maize Kraze in Virginia Beach or the Cornhole Classic in Tampa.  Think of the road trips we could go on and how cool it would be to have destinations based on the competition calendar.  Let’s invite some fans to join us on our corny vacations and make sure their support is loud wherever we go, whatever I throw.

If we are going to go all out and start traveling as a result of this backyard bonding, let’s get some matching shirts and figure out a witty team name.  Win or lose, I want our team look to be capable and coordinated.  This is something I want us to be known for – not just our crazy good grilled cheese sandwiches and wilderness stories. We might need to invest in a new board and some of those two-toned bags with one fuzzy side to boost our game strategy.  If we start to show some promise, I’m so getting us a backyard barkeep.  This isn’t a bench, mini-fridge, or someone who mows the grass on call.  It’s going to make keeping score so much easier and prevent our open drinks from spilling.  My treat; I’ll buy.  Anything to make our play time debate free should one of us forget the final score.

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