Sure, I spent 10 years in the Army. But I was an officer. And a Quartermaster officer at that.
Our oldest boy, on the other hand, is a master in the development and use of all kinds of crazy weapons. And he's a blossoming martial arts expert to boot. (Though I will point out, just to keep his head from swelling, that I am just as scared of Claudia on this count.)
So I don't know why anyone would be surprised when I announce that I was bested by my son this weekend.
Now don't get me wrong – I'm a man. If I'm going to square off against the boy, I like my chances if we're …
- On bikes, in a pool or lacing up running shoes.
- Playing soccer or tennis.
- Bouncing quarters. (I'd better dominate him for a good, solid 7 years in this one or he and I are going to be having a completely different talk…)
- Filling out crossword puzzles.
I was employing Venetti's defense, based on the rough terrain. Quinn, however, was just plain comin' out strong and working to resolve some unsettled parental issues. (That first break you see in the duel? That's the guy telling Quinn, "Dude, lighten up. They're balloons. If you hit them, they'll break. You're not trying to take his head off…. Are you?")
I waited patiently for my chance and struck first to take one of Quinn's balloons. Then, when we went back at it, I saw my chance and was sure I had his second balloon. Evidently though, the guy was wrong and they DON'T necessarily break if you hit them. And half a second later, my son came slashing brutally across the crown of my skull to take out both of my balloons with one, mighty stroke.
If you watch at the end, you can see me hang my head in shame as I'm berated mercilessly for being a disgrace to southpaws everywhere by squandering my lefty advantage and losing to a mere right-hander. Also, please note Quinn's PG-13 rated victory cry of "Suck it" at the end.
All part of a great day at the Minnesota Renaissance Festival. Love that place!