Name that sport

On Friday, when Colin got home, the boys began begging me to go outside and play. It was a beautiful day, so we all headed out the front door. I got comfy, and, all of a sudden, not a minute and a half later, Colin yelled:

"Let's play hopscotch!"

which was greeted with a squeaky chorus of "Yeah! Yeah!!" by his brothers.

That translated (albeit, silently) into:

"Mom, will you puh-lease drag yourself up off of that comfy chair, put your book and your ice cold sweet tea down, and come over to the driveway and bend over your seemingly-gigantic-and-very-cumbersome-belly for at least five minutes while you draw us up a huge hopscotch on the ground?"

Moaning and groaning With a half smile on my face, I obliged. Colin wanted not a regular hopscotch drawn, but an 'extra huge' one. That meant, in Colin terms, going past the number ten and all the way to 20.

So, that's what I did. I even used two different colors of chalk. *grin*

And I ended up with heartburn from being bent over so long, too, in case anyone was wondering.

The boys were excited, so it was worth it.

What made it even more worth it was hearing and seeing Cameron, as I was headed back over to my comfy chair, wheel his bike around to the start of the hopscotch, look directly at Colin, and say:

"Okay. This will be called 'extreme hopscotch'. I hope you can handle it."