I haven't figured this out yet . . .
While I was still incapacitated by illness this morning, I missed out on a family trip to the local farmer’s market. My consolation was an epic truck battle between me and G.
You would think I should get the monster truck because my hands are far larger, but like any son would do to his father, I get stuck with the lesser of two choices. It doesn’t matter because I always win.
Yeah, that’s right, I have no shame in beating my kids at their own games. Losing is an important lesson to learn. I’m not one of those parents who believes that, “we’re all winners.” That’s bogus. We’re not all winners and losers don’t deserve the same kudos as winners. Competition is what the world thrives on, people.
One day, G will be able to beat me at stuff. Maybe it’ll be fifteen years from now, maybe twenty. When I’m too old to compete with my prime-of-his-life son, I’ll lose at something because I had to, not because I chose to. Until then, G will just have to suck it up.