When, in theory, does a game of dodgeball between parents and toddlers turn inappropriate? Myself and The Friends/Neighbors pondered this thought as The Dad had had enough of The Boy's incessant whining and gunned a Nerf Football in his direction. Thus emerged, the friendly game of dodgeball turned combat conversation. As The Dad and I pondered it further throughout the evening, it became more ridiculous; however, it sounded like it would be the best game on Earth. What started off as a casual conversation about how we used to play dodgeball with Junior High kids at a day-camp we worked at, while in college, turned into what kind of warpaint we'd use on our faces to allude our kids into thinking they were leaping toward bushes and not their parents, whose arms were cocked, ready to throw that tiny, red gym ball in their direction.
It's only a small amount of time before our children grow up; become taller, smarter, faster, and better looking than us, we have to take advantage of their shortcomings now while we still can. As The Boy can almost outrun me at the young age of three, I feel that I should...wait no, I feel that is a necessity to beat him at the things I can now. For Example, a hot dog eating contest, a 1/2K walk, leapfrog, Mario Brothers, the six saltine challenge, and finally, dodgeball. Now channeling the spirit of Patches O'Houlihan himself, I now feel that I am ready to Dodge, Duck, Dive, Dip and Dodge my way to the finish line of our 6-bracket, three round tournament of parent/child dodgeball. And, at the end of the day, as my children are crushed to tears, with tiny red welts on their tiny bodies, I will be comforted by the fact that not only did we beat them, we crushed their spirits as well.
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