Evangeline and I had a great time Monday night before dinner, whacking each other with rolled-up newspapers.
It started when I called her out to the kitchen to set the table. There was an article in the arts section about a museum exhibit on comic books qua Americana that I knew she would want to read, so I went to hand it to her. And then, of course, I jerked it away just as she reached for it, a classic game that I think fathers everywhere have used to torture their children and drive them to madness.
After three or four times of pulling it away, I rolled it into a tube and started bonking her on the head with it while she tried to grab it. I don't know how long we kept that up, both of us laughing like mad, until she got a hold of it and started whacking me back. I reached up on top of the refrigerator, grabbed another section, rolled it up, and returned her fire.
We must have done this for about 15 minutes or more. By the time we were done, she had rolled three sections of the paper into one big weapon to smack me with, while I brandished one section in each hand and alternated which one I used.
I never knew the Classifieds section could be so much fun.
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I always have to run away from my dad when I'm reading the paper, because if he hasn't read it yet, he snatches it out of my hands and justifies it by saying "I paid for it!"
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