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None of this was helped by the fact that, after a week of tremendous effort, my son's shofar skills have improved from "dying alpaca" to "walrus in heat" (which isn't that far off from how the thing should actually sound.) I have been overthrown from yet another household title. I am no longer the Risk champion of the house. My son has also learned he can beat me at dodgeball by getting inside and throwing at my shins - and he walloped my slider over the neighbor's fence for a home run (granted the ball was a foam and didn't break right.)
Being regularly bested by a seven-year old - my efforts at self-improvement will focus on identifying areas where I can still defeat him and hold the line, lest my household authority deteriorate further. Maybe I'll break out the old Atari and play him at Asteroids or Pong. But not Missile Command - that spooky noise when your defenses fail (as they inevitably must) and the world comes to an end will give him nightmares.
I still have those nightmares.
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