THE BEATING

 

I took a little break from writing the blog. Partly because there seemed to be a lack of poop and pee stories with Luca and Elijah. Plus the subject of teenage bathroom activity is…dis…gust…ing. 

More importantly, the boys have a social life. They’ve taken a little heat from their pals about the blog archive and I feel like there are enough things to be embarrassed by as a 13-year-old without your dad adding to the pain.

But then, in an amazing turn of events, but boys came to me asking to re-boot. They missed reading about themselves. 

So we're back, baby!

When I was a kid, my dad used to whump us in ping pong, Or “Table Tennis” if you are a rich kid. I would occasionally burst into tears at a loss. Dad would sigh and say, “You don’t want me to lose on purpose, do you?” I genuinely did. But he never threw a game. 

Beating your small children in sports is the only way to feel like a real man.

Last Saturday,Diana was in Michigan to soak up the lingering rays of sun. That left Eli, Luca and I to hide in our corners of the house and peer into the flickering light of our personal devices. 

Whataminute. I only have two years left with both boys together. What if we actually hung out? Actually did something together?

I suggested we have a Nintendo sports tournament. Surprisingly they agreed. It may have been the sad puppy dog look on my face. Plus bribes.

After a dinner of beer and burgers we grabbed our little controller things and engaged in a battle of digital tennis and bowling and badminton.

I have no idea what happened since the last time I played Nintnedo, but I got SMOKED. Like, not even funny. Simply destroyed. There was a time when I could hang with them, even beat them. In fact, I boasted to Grandma Connie earlier in the day that I would be the victor. 

At times, I felt like I was trying to punch a giant, arms swinging wildly while they gently held me at arm’s length. I think they were suppressing yawns.

I ended up sitting on the couch, pouting and drinking an expensive bottle of wine Diana was saving for a special occasion. 

But then I realized the boys were laughing and cheering and having a blast. It was a special occasion deserving of an expensive bottle. It was one of our last, wonderful, hilarious times we’d have before everyone leaves for college.

Worthy of a reboot of the blog.