This is what happens when you turn 40

Captain and I decide to head outside to the porch swing. He grabs a bowl of cherries. I exclaim,

“Oh good idea, do we need something to put the pits in?”

“No, we can just spit them over the railing.”

Ok. He may be confident in his pit spitting skills, but I have my doubts about my own. The railing is to the left of the swing. I sit next to the railing and Captain is on my right. I want to improve my odds of getting the pit in the vicinity of the railing.

I’m ready. I aim and fire. There’s more spluttering than necessary but the pit goes sailing. It’s well clear of the railing and lands in the grass. Decent.

Captain gives me a look. This appears to be shaping up to be a pit spitting contest. I ask him,

“Are you going to show me how it’s done?”

“Yup.”

He swishes the pit around in his mouth. He winds up; throws his head back. This pit is going places. AND…

Spit, splutter, splat. The pit does a small arch and lands at my feet.

I found the official rules for the International Pit Spitting Championship: “No foreign objects may be held in the mouth which would give an advantage in spitting the pit. Denture racks will be provided for those wishing to remove their teeth.”
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