Rainy Florida summers must provide prime mushroom-growing conditions, because every time Chris and I head out for a jog (Chris)/skate (Mari) together, they are lined up along our route like minions waiting to see their queen. And they get HUGE. The huger, the better—when it comes to mushroom-punting. Every so often along our loop Chris will say, “Hold on…” and trail off, and I’ll turn my head discreetly so he can blow his nose farmer-style or whatever, then with no warning a big chunk of mushroom comes sailing over my shoulder. “Did you see that?!” Chris asks, grinning for the first time since the pain of jogging set in. “That was huge! And now it’s everywhere!”
But last night we were trotting along only to discover the Mother of All Mushrooms-in-need-of-a-Boot…already in enormous pieces scattered across the sidewalk. Gasp! The nerve! These things pop up overnight, spend a couple days with the top rounded, then in one glorious evening spread out to their full enormous potential! We had not noticed this one yet, which means it was probably rounded last time we passed by. And while I don’t like it, it’s probably fair that the first person who finds the mushroom after unfurling should get to deliver the boot that sends it to its doom. But this one looked still slightly rounded. Jumping the gun?? Now THAT is BAD Mushroom-Punting Etiquette!