So there's this sport...it's quite popular around the world. Two people get on either side of a pretty large net that is spanned in between them. They each have rackets. It's played outside on a warm sunny day. That's right...I'm talking about badminton. But I'm not here to talk about Badminton (yes, it actually does have an "n" in the spelling...go look it up). I'm here to talk about Tennis.
Laura is always hounding me to play tennis with her, and I never figured out why, that is, until the first time we played. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, Laura has played tennis competitively throughout much of her highschool career as well as winning The Master's College Intramural Doubles Championship. Basically, Lo wants to take me out there to kind of...recalibrate...the "dignity status quo" of our household. By the end of the day, it usually turns out something like Laura - 6...Tyler - (no)Luv. My pride is dashed upon the cracked cement of our local courts and any last shred of masculinity that remains is callously torn from me with every "Oooh, it's ok Tyler, you'll get it next time" or " Oh No Tyler, you were soo close" or "If you want, Tyler, I'll just practice with you for a while". That's just cold.
Of course, I have contingency plans if things get carried away. All of a sudden, I'll have equipment malfunctions, ankle malfunctions, possibly even wardrobe malfunctions to use as all the handicap I need to make sure that I come home with a good victim mentality that gets me through another day.
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