Confettied

This morning, I was confettied. It was pretty cool.

Here's the backstory. We were having a desultory Sunday brunch, talking over the events of last night, when my daughter was in another color guard competition. I came to it -- support the team, doncha know, plus, some of these teams are quite good -- and after about two hours, I came back home. The offspring was brought back home around 11, tumbling into bed immediately. This morning, I was talking about the ones I had seen, mentioning how creative I thought they were -- one team had a fake couch that they hauled onto the competition floor, the team clustered on it, and a camera on a tripod went off, signaling them to start their routine; at the end, they grabbed a 'frame' around six feet high and eight feet wide, and a support crew hustled it into place while the team rushed back to the couch: the 'picture' -- and my daughter got a big grin and dashed down the hall to her room, returning quickly. Cover your food, she said, so I laid part of the Post on it. Ready? she asked. I glanced at my wife, who was smiling, and thought What the hell...? Sure, I said -- and she tossed a handful of gold glitter flakes, cut up from gold foil, on me, the table, and the floor. Apparently, one of the teams that I had not seen had used the glitter as what was being 'shot from a cannon', and she'd seized a handful.

Confettied. At breakfast. With gold glitter flakes. What could be cooler?