Nest

I looked up at the thirty-foot tree where I once launched a ball into its lowest branches. 'My' kids had asked me to kick the ball across the driveway to them, so they could catch it and return it. They rolled me the ball, I tried to kick it into the air, but instead, due to my ghastly lack of coordination, somehow managed to get the ball nestled itself in a little thicket, about fifteen feet up. The kids laughed at my 'joke' and kept saying how funny I was. When the novelty of their assumption wore off, they asked me to end my silliness and get the ball down. I was torn between pretending I had the athletic ability to intentionally launch a ball like I just had, and the truth. The truth won, and we stared at that silly rubber egg, cozy in its nest, for the next day and a half. 

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