prynne

The last time my furgirl and I went somewhere together in my car, she left this ball behind. And while I am generally pretty anal about clearing out things left behind in my car, I haven't moved the ball.

Its not for sentimental reasons, although when it comes to my girl I can get pretty sappy. And its not because I haven't noticed it, because its bright orange against a dark grey background. Hard to miss.

No, I left it there because whenever I make a hard stop, the ball will roll forward, fall to the floor and bounce high enough to fall back in the exact same spot in the car where it will lay, fairly motionless until I make my next stop.

And I have had so much fun driving around playing 'car catch' with myself. I make up strange rules, and try to bounce and catch the ball in specific rhythms. When I drive down residential streets I play little number games - I'll bounce and catch every seventh even numbered house, or I'll bounce and catch three times at every stop sign, and six times at every stop light. I'll double bounce at every street named after a prime number and triple bounce for Mersennes. I purposely hit potholes as hard and as fast as I can, hoping to get more height and hangtime on the ball.

I can't imagine why I haven't had a car accident yet. Its ridiculous, dangerous, and ever so slightly immature. My high school Driver's Ed teacher would be fishing a load of bricks out of his shorts if he knew.

But I can't stop. I'm on a roll. Today I got up to a triple bounce, a half-seat roll to the right, and a quick snap back to the left - six times in a row!

My goal is to find a way to bounce the ball up over the headrest and into the passenger seat beside me before I leave for the weekend.

I'll probably be up all night, thinking about different ways to do it.