Balls.

Fact: I have spent the majority of my day reading every piece of information regarding our former (ahhh!!!) head basketball coach. It was getting downright depressing to be around a computer. But this is not about Frank Martin…

I decided to take the girls to the gym after school to clear my head. The girls kept me entertained by fighting over the toys they brought in the car. Overheard in my car today:

Quit throwing your balls at me!

I want the blue balls.

Stop throwing your balls at my head, I’m driving!

Kate, here. We both can have blue balls.

Those balls are too big for this car, you should have left them at home.

Mommy, they are not big balls. They are fine.

I like red balls.

Ok. Seriously, stop throwing the balls at my head. You are going to get me pulled over. Next ball at my head gets popped by me.

No, mommy! Don’t pop our balls!

Mmmmm….POP! Ha! I pop balls.

Kate! Don’t pop the balls!

Ok, we’re here. Everyone out. Leave your balls in the car.

Why can’t we bring them to the kids play area?

Someone might steal your balls. Or you might lose them.

Oh. Ok. Mommy, why are you laughing?

Oh I’m just glad you’re girls.

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