Slung

My grape-stomping sister-in-law lives in a small house but in a big space, so she hosts parties outside. For a bash this summer her husband built a slip 'n slide — OF — DOOOOM — that rivalled the best Kahneeta has to offer, pretty much; I've never seen happier 6- to 8-year-olds; and he even enticed the adults, who laughed and screamed with the screamiest of the kids.

Last year at Hallowgiving (which I missed: thank you swine flu) my sister-in-law built a haunted grove full of witches and ghosts and zombies emerging from the dirt. This year she built a slingshot instead. A big one. A pumpkin-slinging shot. It rained all weekend but we went out anyway and hucked pumpkin after pumpkin and, after awhile, Leopard and a few of Leopard's friends.

Weeee-heeew! Leopard flew up – up – and caught the wind and hesitated, as if contemplating flying further, then fell down into the grass.

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In the photo my son is lying prone only because he needed to use his entire body weight to launch anything. He did want to launch himself; but he couldn't figure out how to make that work.