The Beauty of a Driveway

The high pitch of a child’s laughter, a scream and multiple voices, followed by fleeting shadows darting between the slats of the blind and from in the front of the house, told much of the tale. The clear skies and sun of a Saturday morning had brought the neighborhood kids out of their homes.

“Are they playing in our driveway?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Why?”

“Between our driveway and the neighbors driveway, we have the best jump for bicycles and scooters in the neighborhood.”

“What if one of them gets hurt?”

“They’ll be fine.”

“Well, go out there anyway and tell them to stop, to go play someplace else.”

“Why?”

“In case one of them gets hurt and we get sued.”

“They can sue all they want, but you can’t get blood out of a turnip.”

“That might be true, but I still don’t want to be sued.”

“But listen that, all that laughter, that shouting, the carrying on, I think it’s worth the price of a suit.”

“You’re too much of a romantic for our good,” she sighed, knowing to argue her point any further was hopeless.

He smiled, knowing she was right.