All Dressed Up
““He managed pretty well,” was Dad’s cheerful verdict on the exercise, to Emma and Mom.
Billy disagreed. “No, Dad,” he said. “This year it was you who managed pretty well.”
“What do you mean, Billy Bud?”
“Last year and two years ago, I got tired and went slow and you were ahead of me all the way back, and when we got home you said I managed pretty well. This year, you got tired and went slow and I was ahead, so we should say it the other way around.”
Emma laughed.
She was surprised, both at the perception and at herself for just laughing like that, for the small ambush of pleasure with Billy… Billy… as its source. “He’s right, Dad,” she said. “It’s logical.
Managing pretty well is not the winning position.”
Dad laughed too, and a complicated look appeared on his face – happy and sort of confused, as if he wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up where he was in this life, but most of it was okay. “In that case, I’ll try not to manage pretty well next time.”
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