Our kids got a back yard tether ball pole for Christmas and they play the game at any chance they get, at school and at home. Not only that but almost every afternoon a small flock of neighborhood kids come over, pulled in by the allure of a good old fashion game of tether.
Lately , I have been joining in the tether ball play with my kids. They call in “versing”. Like as in,
“Hey Mom wanna verse me in tether?”
Do I ever! I was a tether champion in my day, out on the balding grass fields of Edison Elementary. I could play me some mean tether, my waist length brown hair flapping around with every smack of the yellow ball.
So ever since I started versing my children, I am undefeated. That’s right-UN-DE-FEATED! Even Kaden, my oldest is no match for my skills.
So yesterday, I was minding my own business, pealing the dinner potatoes at the kitchen sink, when I heard this little conversation from the yard.
My son: Branson: Look Logan, I know you can beat me every time we play but my mom can beat you.
Logan: No she can’t
Branson: Yes she can, she even beats Kaden.
Logan: I would never lose to a girl.
Branson: Yes huh, my Mom can beat you.
Logan: No she can’t.
Branson: I will get her to verse you and then you will see. She played at her school when she was my age.
Then Branson burst through the back door, nearly yelling at me,
“Mom, I really need you to come out side and verse Logan.”
ME: No way, I am not going to verse Logan.
Branson: You have to, he says he can beat you , but I know he can’t!
Me: Branson, I have to peal the potatoes.
Branson: Please! Mom, just one game!
ME: Fine, go get my shoes.
Do you know the rest of the story? Do You? I let Logan serve, it was the least I could do. From behind me I could hear the chants of, “Go Mom, go Mom!” and “Go Miss Heywood!”
Which came generously and respectfully, I might add, from the other neighbor kids in attendance.
Logan was better than I thought. I mean really, the kid spends every precious moment of recess polishing up his tether skills. Furthermore, Logan had on a snow glove, a snow glove! Which I would have said was cheating (because it is) but I figured he needed all the help he could get. There were a few tense moments, a few times when little Logan was wailing the ball round and around the pole. I decided it was time to get serious so I went for the kill. I made it quick to spare Logan any prolonged humiliation, after all- I am a girl.
I won fair and square. And Logan was no worse for the ware, he even waved at me while he peddled madly to school this morning. Upon the victory Branson yelled out,
” I told you!”
And then he gave me a high five and a little grin as I strolled all cool and collectedly, back to my sink and my potatoes.
Mother of the Year?
I think so.