"Serve it up, Big C," said my meathead cousin, Aaron.
I served the ball right into the opposing team's blind spot, which contained my very own child.
"YES! POINT FOR ME!" I gloated.
My fam likes to play volleyball after sucking down copious amounts of turkey and pumpkin pie. I'm curious what your family does on a lazy Thanksgiving afternoon.
It's fun because everyone gets to play. My little man, Tyson, was front and center and made sure to take the ball from whoever was meant to serve.
"It's my turn," he would say at any given moment. Then my cousins would generously toss him the ball and watch him lob it over or under or at the net.
The someone would yell, "It's still in play!"
We continue to volley until someone KICKS the ball into a bed of cactus.
The rules are: There are no rules.
When we play volleyball the same person is allowed to hit the ball as many consecutive times as he wants.
My son also made sure to spike the ball right where he stood at every given opportunity. He did not spike it over the net, mind you. He just slammed it hard into the immediate dirt in front of him. (What he lacks in skill he makes up for in enthusiasm.)
I tried to get fancy a couple times and dove for the ball but Aaron made fun of me for getting my "designer jeans all dirty"... He had a point...
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Sorta unrelated topic:
It was suggested to me that perhaps I would have more blog comments if I were more relatable and less intimidating to women of my demographic.
Ridiculous!
To this I say, What is more relatable to Mormon mommies on Thanksgiving than spiking a volleyball in 5-inch knee high boots and skinny jeans with rowdy cousins? Hmmmm?
Intimidating?! BOO!
I am VERY relatable. Hmph!
Happy Black Friday!
