It’s not so much that I can’t stomach being beaten by two little girls at about everything we do, it’s just that their rationale for defeating me is getting more and more personal.

Case in point.

Daddy/Daughter Fun Time goes bowling. The results are as expected.

And, that was my second, better game.

Isabella (she’s 6): Yay, Julianna! We both beat Daddy!
Julianna (8): Yay! We won!
Iz: Well, that’s because Daddy has a bad back.
J: And he doesn’t see so well.
Iz: And he’s old. He needs a wheelchair!
J: And he’s short. He could barely pick up the ball. Haha!
Iz: Maybe Daddy should have used a kid’s ball.
J: Yeah, a little girl‘s ball!

Both: Hahahaha!

J: And he’s stupid.
Iz: And he’s fat.
J: Daddy, did you try to bowl with your belly or a ball?

Both: Hahaha!!

Iz: Daddy, maybe your shoes were too big. You have tiny feet!
J: Yeah, how do you even stand up?

Both: Hahahaha!

Iz: Daddy lost to two little girls.
J: The big baby!

So goes the conversation all the way home.

(In my defense, they get to use the gutter bumpers while I didn’t. But, everything else they say is pretty much true. No denyin’.)