To the Inhabitants of Base Housing Here in Arizona. Where It’s STILL Hot!

October 29, 2008

Please accept my sincerest apologies on the noise that was heard tonight all over this fine base of ours.

See, on our nightly walks, we usually go to the outdoor hockey rink near our house.  It is so smooth that EVERY TIME I STEP ONTO IT, I’m tempted to lie down right there and roll around and around on it.  Also?  I want to lick it too.  But I usually refrain from doing either one because I am too busy beating Yummy Man and 11-Year-Old in “Horse”…….the game played with a basketball and, in my case, an amazing amount of skill although Yummy Man would have you believe that it’s all luck on my part.

Every.

Single.

Night.

Uh-huh.

Anyway, the littler children ride their scooters or shoot basketball at the short goal or avoid Mommy who, in between trouncing my husband and children at Horse, plays Scooter Mommy Ball which is Dodgeball on a scooter with Mommy aiming at them as they fly past.  I’m not so good at that game.  Yummy Man has so helpfully informed me that the reason I stink at it is because I throw like a girl.

Which, of course, I AM, so I fail to see the point.

Anyway.

Tonight, the smaller ones decided to push the strollers around the rink/court with even smaller ones riding inside.  And that is where the problems began.

I can’t say how it all started, other than understanding the fact that when you have nine children in one place at one time, and one of them gets upset, it’s like dominoes. 

By the end of the horrible-ness, there was one kid laying in a tipped-over stroller, screaming bloody murder, another kid TOTALLY losing it over the fact that WE DON’T LET HIM DO ANYTHING!, another kid sobbing that she didn’t do anything wrong, another kid screaming because Daddy yelled at her to stop pushing the stroller with the kid in it who may have had a head trauma, and Mommy screaming because she beat 11-Year-Old at Horse.

I know.  One of those is just not noble but I’ll let you figure out which one.

And now it is time for a story about my Dad.

Stay with me.  There IS a connection and it’ll be worth it.

My dad used to play tennis a few times a week.

Not leisurely, old-people tennis, but serious, competitive, I’m-gonna-kick-your-bottom tennis.

There was this one guy he played a lot whom he just LOVED to beat.  He’d come home afterwards, SO excited that he beat this man named Tom.  And my dad is normally a quiet, humble, unassuming man who doesn’t brag and CERTAINLY doesn’t pump his fists in the air over a victory or give himself high-fives.

Unless he beat Tom.

Here’s the funny part of this story……

Tom was a very nice man at our church that we all liked.  And we could never figure out why our dad got SO excited whenever he beat Tom.

Why?

Because Tom had one arm. 

So my dad beat a one-armed man in tennis and thought he was pretty hot stuff because of it.

How sad is that? 

Now, whenever I beat 11-Year-Old in Horse, I always think about my dad being SO excited about beating Mr. One-Armed Tennis Player.

And it kinda ruins my victory buzz.

See?  That was worth it, wasn’t it?

Plus, it’ll give my dad a chuckle and I just love doing that!

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3 Responses to “To the Inhabitants of Base Housing Here in Arizona. Where It’s STILL Hot!”

  1. Kristen Jeffery said

    That was AWESOME!!!! I can SO picture your dad doing that! Great post and great morning laugh! Thanks!

  2. Susan said

    I am so glad to hear that there is another Mom out there who also throws like a girl. Go figure!!! Aren’t we girls???

  3. Mother said

    HAHAHAHA. Gave your mother a chuckle too! Loved it! Poor Mr. Tom. 🙂

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