Sunday, 19 April 2009

Love - Forty (Something-year-old-needing-oxygen)

Well, Spring must have definitely sprung; the back lawn received its first chop of the season and we dragged the Swingball out of the garden shed.

Let the championships begin...

I managed to smack both of the kids in the face with a ball - eldest son got his right on the nose - what magnificent aim! My left hand will, no doubt, be swollen and battered tomorrow, because I kept hitting the bloody thing with my bat. See, now that's karma; I laughed at the boys' injuries and fate redressed the balance by whacking me...several times...

Eldest son annihilated us both - mostly with brute strength, aided by the fact he's got an extra two foot in height to play with, but boy! was it fun! I especially loved the moment where I collapsed on a garden chair, gasping, "can't...breathe..." It's amazing how much a body can deteriorate in just a year...

Youngest son stole the show, however, with his comment, "They should make a game of Swingball".

"Um...they're playing it."

"No, I meant for the Playstation or the X BOX."

Now, who says technology is killing childhood?

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