The Basketball Hoop in My House

 

My husband, Dan, is still working from home. 

One afternoon, I received this text from him: "If I'm not home when you get home, I'm probably packing up my cube at HP. We are moving cubes. I didn't get fired."

 

"That's a relief," I thought. "Thanks for clarifying." 

I was already home when Dan returned, his cubicle all packed up. He walked through the door, carrying a portable basketball hoop.

"What is happening?!"

"I've always had this at work," was his response."I won it for my March Madness bracket a few years ago."

After hearing stories about afternoons spent playing games with fellow employees or having team lunches at local breweries or attending company barbecues over the years, I'm not convinced they actually "work" at his job.

 

I left him alone while I fixed dinner.

 

A few minutes later, I heard something banging around in the office.

 

This is what I found.

 

"I'm good at this!" he announced. 

 

I turned and started to head back into the kitchen but was stopped by something hitting the back of my head.

"Aggh!"

 

"Sorry. I was going for the basket," he said, grabbing the Nerf ball, not sounding that sorry.

"Not very well, apparently," I said.

Now our house is filled with the sound of intermittent pounding coming from the office. And the door doesn't close all the way anymore, so that's awesome too. 

 

I ask you, does he really need one more distraction while working from home?

 

 

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