After disappointing defeats to their Dad last night at ping-pong, the boys woke up at 6am to spend their Sunday morning slamming ping-pong balls against the living room wall adjacent to one of my favorite paintings.
As I worried that an orange plastic ball might put a hole through the smoky background, the nine year old mused:
“If Star [our dog] were a person, I bet she’d be really good at ping-pong.”
He did not voice his next thought, which i know was:
“…and we’d beat Dad!”