Dinnertime as Racquetball

When I'm tired I get grumpy and I want to be left alone.

When my kids are tired my house is like a racquetball court, with little blue racquetballs bouncing off the walls and whizzing past my head. All while I try to get dinner on the table. I don't know why my kids bounce off the walls when they're tired. It doesn't make sense to me.

Racquetball is a fun sport. You could really spice it up, though, if you were to put, say, a kitchen in the court, with an overflowing trash, and maybe one of the little racquetballs likes to go through the trash and redistribute it all over the court.

Then maybe another racquetball scratches another racquetball's face and then all the racquetballs discover they have voice boxes and proceed to produce screaming, wailing, MOM-ing, shouting and other such sounds while the player (because there's only one player in dinnertime raquetball) tries to win (get dinner on the table).

It is a sport. One that requires great skill and strategy. I'm just going to say it, though. It's not a fun sport.

I love them so. But, yeah. They're trying to destroy me.