Lacin' up the Cleats

You were down on your favorite stool, at your favorite spot on the breakfast bar, eating your favorite cereal when she called back.

“Hey, Riley! You could mow lawns!” Kirsty exclaimed without stating who was calling.
Not that it mattered too much; you knew it was her by your ringtone.
“Mow … lawns?” You asked incredulously.

You hated mowing your own yard. It was a chore you thoroughly despised only because it made you go in and take another shower. All it did was waste time, money, gas, and water. Time especially because you could be down at the park playing football.

Football was one of your favorite past times. Not many would say that but, you did. You were on a rec. team and were hoping to be moved up to house team. You generally went to the park because there was always someone playing and you usually got caught up in it.
Yeah there were girls there, but they were usually on the sidelines cheering. And that was just not your thing.

“Yeah mow lawns! I know, I know. ‘What about football?’ Well, you can do football whenever you want! And I’ll even come along sometime and watch you play! Or maybe you could teach me how to play.” She left hanging.

You had been trying to get Kirsty to come to one of your games but, she never did come. Always saying it just wasn’t her thing. It was too hot out. It was too cold out, anything to get out of it really. And the thought of teaching her how to play? Well, that just topped the cake.

“Fine, I’ll start making fliers.” You laughed, knowing she did that on purpose just to suck you into it.

She squealed and added, “When you start giving them out, think of it as training! See how fast you can run down a street putting the fliers up in the door! Ciao!” And she hung up again.
‘Good idea.’ You thought, ‘I could do with a run.’

So you went upstairs and changed to running shorts, an old t shirt, and grabbed your iPod. You quickly made stereotypical fliers with those little eye-catching starburst things. You printed out a bunch and ran out the door.

You easily ran up and down the street and throughout the entire neighborhood. But you stopped short when an iron wrought gate blocked your way up to a new house you had never noticed before.

You saw a little gatehouse on one end. You walked to that end and politely called out, “Excuse me?”

You weren’t expecting it but, a guard walked around and asked, “What do you want?’
He was pretty gruff looking and he didn’t look like a Police Officer, maybe a Bouncer, but not law enforcement.

“Hi! I was hoping you could give this to the owner of this house.” You said cheerfully, giving him one of your dazzling smiles. You handed the flier through the fence and the guard took it.

All he did was give you a grunt and walked back into the gatehouse.

You turned, started your iPod back up, and finished handing out the fliers. By the time you got home, you were hot, sweaty, and tired. You took another shower and decided to just play around on facebook.

Kirsty had left you at least seven comments saying how excited she was. You answered them back and went to find your mom. You were asking her about the new house with the gate when the phone rang.
Your mom answered it, “Hello? … Hold on please.” She cupped her hand over the transmitter end of the phone and said, “For you, dear. About mowing a yard …?”

“Oh yeah, thanks mom. I’ll explain later.” You took the phone and said, “Hello? … Yes, this is Riley. … Yes, of course! … Alright, thank you! Bye!” And you hung up the phone.
You mom raised her eyebrow.

You sighed and explained everything that happened and your mom said, “Depends on when it is. But other than that I would be ok with it.”

You smiled and hugged her repeatedly saying, “I love you, mom! You’re the best!”

You went back to facebook and sent a message to Kirsty asking when it was. There was nothing else for you to do, so you read The Body Farm by Patricia Cornwell until it was time for dinner and then you took another jog, a shower, and went to bed.