The Olympics are nothing compared to what goes on in our family. Peter just finished a fierce foosball tournament with Ben, Faith, and Adam (10, 8, 6; Adam isn’t ours, btw). Team BenFaith beat Team PeterAdam. Their reward? “To watch you and Daddy play ping pong against each other!”

Our ping pong spectacular was supposed to be two out of three. Being the truly stinky player that I am, and a sore loser, after I lost the first two I begged for it to be three out of five. Peter graciously gave me some tips. After resisting, I finally listened to him. I got a little better. In the end he did win, but it was three games to two.

Then it was on to foosball. Control vs. Chaos! Our styles couldn’t be any more different! He carefully handled the ball, even getting his little guys to pass laterally. My poor guys kept on ending up upside down, or whirling frantically and committing own goals. It was maddening. Again he patiently schooled me. That was maddening too. The kids kept offering to help me. (?!) Eventually I (while still arguing) started doing what he said. I got a bit better. He still won.

We are so similar in values and intensity, so absolutely opposite in style!! But it is a match made in heaven. He’s the hyper to my active. He’s the spontaneous to my combustion. He’s the aloe vera to my sunburn. He’s the counterpoint to my point. He’s the “let grace work” to my “but I gotta fix it!”

Rematch is tonight.