Mother's Day and My Humiliation

I was playing HORSE with my twins today, (in case you think I'm speaking of some strange equestrian game, it's when someone makes a basketball shot the next person has to make the same exact shot or they get an "H".  First person with HORSE is out.  No offense, but if you didn't know that you need to get out more. Seriously.)

So, I'm playing HORSE with my twins and if you've played this game with adults only, than you haven't REALLY played. Because with normal people, the goal is to make a difficult shot that YOU can make, but the other person can't.  Pretty straightforward.  But with two almost 9-year old boys, that is only a means to a much greater end.  Because in their little insane, cruel minds the goal is to actually heap untold humiliation on the person who comes after them.  And if they make the basket, they have succeeded.  What do I mean? The clue is in my description above. The person has to make the same EXACT shot. EXACT SHOT.  What this means is that if the person before you happens to cluck like a chicken, sing a horrible rendition of Yankee Doodle Dandy, goose step while making fart sounds, AND saying over and over again, "I love the Dallas Cowboys" in a little girls voice, all as he is approaching the basket, then MAKES the basket.  You guessed it.  The person next has to do the exact. same.  thing.  Let's just say my boys have gotten alot better at basketball than I remember.  And I was made a fool of yesterday to the utter delight of my boys and their mom who got to witness her husband being OWNED by her two boys.  That alone would make any mothers' day a Happy Mothers Day! I had a blast, although I'm not sure this is what Christ meant when he said we must "become like little children."