A testament to my mad butt-playing skillz, yo

Yesterday, we took The Daughters to Incredible Pizza for Valentine's Day.  When we first became parents, we were so delirious that we set the precedent to take our children out for Valentine's Day to show them that we love them.  In theory, it's a rock-solid parenting strategy.  In reality, Momma needs some margarita time!


After we ate our fill of mediocre pizza and tasteless pasta, The Dad and I divided and set out to conquer the "Fairgrounds", which is what Incredible Pizza calls the area in which you pay approximately $284 for 30 minutes of play time and earn 170 tickets which will get you 2 airheads and a set of pink plastic fangs. The Dad set off with Daughter 1 and I led Daughter 1 into the germ-filled arena.

We skeeballed; we go-carted; we attempted to fit a 2 1/2 inch key into a 2 inch key hole in an attempt to win an iPod touch.

"It can't be done, Daughter 2; you're wasting your money!"  
"This time it will work, Momma, the keyhole is getting bigger!"
The innocent joy of almost winning...

When we discovered that Daughter 2 was out of money, we went to claim our prizes.  I tried to text The Dad to tell him we were spent out, but that place is so loud, he wouldn't have heard his phone if it had been planted in his middle ear.  We went to cash out anyway.

Luckily, though, we found Daughter 1 watching The Dad play The Great Basketball Shoot Out.  The Dad, obviously in the zone, had his OKC Thunder cap turned inside out and backwards, rally style.  He was breathing through his eyelids and was grabbing and flinging basketballs as fast as his little hands could shoot.  (Edited by The Dad to say that his hands are not all that little...)  Best I could figure based on the scoreboard above the basket, The Dad was up to 75 tickets and counting.

Just to be mischievous, as we walked by, I grabbed his butt.  I got no response.  I tickled his tooshie.  Nothing.  Finally, I slapped his a$$, and still he did nothing to acknowledge my blatant attempt to distract him.

This is not my Brian Davis, but they make
the same face when they're ballin'!

Later that evening as he was bragging about earning 100 tickets for Daughter 1 with his - and I quote - "mad bucket skillz (yo)", I said, "You weren't even distracted when I played with your butt!"

He chuckled, then he looked square in my face and said, "You played with my butt?"

"Heck yeah, I did!" I laughed.

He scratched his head and said, "When did this happen?"

"When you were playing that basketball game scoring all those sweet tickets so that Daughter 1 could earn the 1-inch green bouncy ball."

"Are you kidding me?" he questioned.

"No!  I grabbed it, then I tickled it, then I slapped it."

"At the basketball game?" he asked.

"Yep."

"I don't remember that," he confessed.  "Wanna do it again?" with a sly little smile.

I rolled my eyes, "I would, but I don't wanna mess with your mad bucket skillz (yo)."

Besides, if he goes pro, no one will mess with his butt in the NBA...