She be kickin' that thar ball

This day we turned a corner in terms ‘o comely wench Thang’s knife throwin’ ability. She actually played th’ game instead ‘o drawin’ in th’ dirt ‘n an’ catchin’ fuzzy thin’s that blow in th’ fall breeze. ‘o course, all ’tis came at th’ cost ‘o her bein’ separated from every lass on her team ‘n fightin’ only wit’ th’ boys. She made it a point a pair or three times to run off th’ field ‘n be tellin’ me how displeased she was wit’ th’ situation, ‘n yet she actually played th’ game instead ‘o holdin’ hands wit’ her best bucko ‘o th’ moment ‘n clotheslinin’ th’ other players.  Unfortunately none ‘o th’ grandparents were thar to witness th’ transformation, ‘n I fear they won’t believe it when we be tellin’ them.

Today is Talk Like a Pirate Day. It’s exhausting, and Jack is deriving far too much pleasure in calling me ‘wench’ at every turn. Scurvy bastard.