Sister's Hide in the Side Pocket

It was Thanksgiving (yes, I'm a little behind on my posts), and we were celebrating with family.  Family that happens to have a pool table.

Dinner was over, and I had managed to roll myself into the family room while the girls went to shoot pool.  

I'm guessing they had played with each other maybe 10 minutes when Meg came running into the room where I was (key word: WAS) enjoying a quiet moment to my gluttonous self.

Megan:  Amanda hurt my fingers with the balls!

Me, already feeling the effects of the turkey coma:  Balls?

Megan:  We were playing pool and she rolled them into my fingers. HARD.

Me, noticing that she wasn't crying and/or cradling her maimed appendages: Are you okay?

Megan:  Yes.

Me:  Sooooo what do you want me to do?

Megan, in her best mafia voice:  GET. HER. IN. TROUBLE.

Me:  Right.

And with that, quiet time was over, and I sent up an extra word of  "Thanks" to the One who blessed me with these two turkeys that keep me laughing ... even when they don't mean to.