|Back Atcha, Rooster
||[Oct. 2nd, 2004|06:09 pm]
A story I forgot from Dominica – at Roxy’s, one morning, as I came out of the bathroom brushing my teeth, I found Brent on the balcony, saying “Back atcha, rooster,” in response to the crowing below. Thinking of Peter Pan, I asked, “And do you know how to crow?” “Yeah,” said Brent. “Want me to?” Being arch, I said “Yeah.” Then realized it isn’t wise to call someone with no fear whatsoever on a dare.
Brent took a big, deep breath, threw his head back, and hollered “I’M IN LOVE!” at the top of his lungs, his voice ringing over the mountaintops. I blushed scarlet and couldn’t stop giggling. “You like that?” he asked, grinning. “I guess you CAN crow!” I said. Heh.
I asked him today, over lunch, if he still felt like crowing. He stopped eating, and grinned at me over his glasses. "Yep," he said, his eyes sparkling. I felt a little like crowing, myself.