All of You

It was a trick question not in the form of a question. I knew I couldn't answer "all of you" because our youngest Bryce would scold me like they always do. 

"You can't say all of us, Dad," Bryce would say to me. "You have to pick one."

What led to the trick question not a question was playing a fun game friends of ours had shared a few years ago. Fun in its simplicity. Fun because it tested how well we knew each other. I don't remember exactly what the game's called, but it goes something like this.

One person starts and picks a number from 1 to 10 in their head and doesn't share it with the others. Then, the other players -- in this case me, my wife Amy, our oldest Beatrice, and Bryce -- proceed to offer categories like food, clothes, music, and more. The person with the number in their head gives an answer for every category asked of them (question not a question). Lastly, the other players try to guess the number.

Again, fun in its simplicity. Which was great, because Bryce wanted to play when we were out to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants on the wharf. At first our kids didn't want to go with us; the plan was to go out to dinner and then watch the drone show at the Beach Boardwalk. But then they changed their minds. We were glad, although we told them no "whining after dining" since we'd be sitting on the beach to watch the show. 

"Dad's getting fussy," Beatrice said. 

"Dad always gets fussy," Bryce said.

"I just don't want you both whining after dinner wanting to go home," I said.

"So fussy."

Yep, Dad always gets fussy. With our teens, it's become regular comedic banter about Dad's fussies. It's fire, dude.

At dinner we played the "number" game, or the "favorites or not" game. Whatever the name, the game brought joy to all of us as we sat and waited for our dinner. During the last round when it was my turn to pick a number (in my head), I picked "10", which meant my favorites.

The categories were then presented to me one by one. Amy's was "favorite family member". 

Both kids sighed aloud. "You know who he's going to pick."

All of you, I thought. I imagined the kids' response, You can't say all of us, Dad.

"Mom," I said.

"See, we knew it!"

I smiled and gave Amy a kiss. 

"Ew, stop!"

"I thought he'd say Jenny," Beatrice said. (That's our dog and another long-time family joke that Jenny's my favorite.)

After dinner, which we all agreed wasn't as tasty as it had been previously, the sun was setting and it was cold and windy. Bryce decided they were too cold and wanted to wait in the car for us. Beatrice, Amy, and I walked from the wharf where we were parked, to the main beach in front of the Boardwalk. Ten minutes later the drone show started. Ten minutes later the drone show ended. I took a few pictures, one of which came out artsy due to the night exposure and the drone light trailing off. I showed Amy and she agreed.

"That was it?" Beatrice said.

"I guess so," I said. "It was still fun, don't you think, Mom?"

"Yes," Amy said. "It was short but cool."

I don't think Beatrice was convinced. We packed our chairs and blankets away and made the trek back to our car. That's when we saw the line of cars exiting the wharf was long and slow. Thirty minutes later we finally exited the wharf and headed home. 

It didn't matter that the food at one of favorite places wasn't that flavorful this time. It didn't matter that Bryce wanted to wait in the car. It didn't matter that it was cold and windy. It didn't matter that the drone show was shorter than what we expected. 

All that mattered was that my favorite family members were with me and we enjoyed each other's company. Because the answer to who's my favorite will always be "all of you".

He Said Cornhole

I never said it wasn't fun. I just asked why it was such a competitive sport. Especially after a recent work trip where, while sitting at the bar eating after a long flight, I witnessed a bean bag toss tournament being broadcast on ESPN, a major cable sports channel.

And had no idea it was called cornhole [snort and laughter] -- complete with the American Cornhole Association and the American Cornhole Organization and the American Cornhole League.

Wow. It's bean bag toss. A game you play at family parties, children's carnivals or to keep your kids busy at breweries while you're tasting beer. I had no idea that the modern game of cornhole, known more commonly as bean bags or just bags in the Chicago area, was likely spread after an article on how to make the boards was published in Popular Mechanics magazine in September 1974. The game spread in Chicago, Illinois, and the Northwest region of Indiana in the late 1970s and early 1980s.

Again, I never said it wasn't fun. It is. And it's competitive as well, like many fun family games can be. It reminds me of growing up playing horseshoes with my grandfather and how much I got into the game. He taught me how to toss in a way that ensured the closest landing to the post. And then of course there's the sweet ringing sound of the ringer. It's the same metaphorical sound with bean bag toss when you hit one of the open holds. 

Right on.

But I have to fast forward, because the game of bean bag toss (i.e., cornhole) wasn't the point of why it even came up in conversation in the first place between me and my wife, Amy. She was researching possible day and weekly camps for both our girls for the summer and reading off options to our youngest, Bryce. Our oldest, Beatrice, was at a friend's house for a sleepover. 

Every camp offering Amy read out loud to Bryce she said no to, except for the theater camp. The girls have been in multiple after-school theater productions and have had a lot of fun doing them. In their latest production, Charlotte's Web, Beatrice played the role of Charlotte and Bryce played multiple roles including the sheep and a baby spider. 

Camps ain't cheap, though, especially when looking at weekly rates. Figuring out the most best bang for our buck, and for the children's time and infotainment, isn't easy. We're balancing our work schedules and budget with the kids' summer vacation and all that time off when they're home. Many parents struggle with this every summer, and yet not all parents have the means to send their kids to even a day camp. We do, but again picking these most cost-effective, learning-effective, engaging and fun camps for our kids is overwhelming to say the least. 

And then we were back to reading the local summer camp catalogue, when Amy came across pickleball (which is also apparently quite big as a competitive sport): 

"What is pickleball? Nobody plays pickleball," said Amy.

"I have no idea. Did you know that bean bag toss is a competitive sport?" I said.

She didn't respond.

"No, really. It's actually called cornhole, or cornholing," I said.

[laughter then a snort]

"That's what it's called."

[more laughter and a snort]

"What is this, Beavis and Butt-Head?"

[snort and laughter]

For those who've never watched the old MTV Beavis and Butt-Head, a highly inappropriate cartoon for kids featuring two teenage boys who like to rock out and who laugh at anything that sounds sexual. Anything and everything. Kind of like my teenage years. Or, wait, that was my friends' teenage years, not mine. 

Right? Right.

Which is why it was so funny to me when we were talking the endless summer camp iterations and costs and I said cornhole and Amy burst into tittered snorting laughter. 

He said cornhole. [snort and laughter]

Cornhole camp it is then!