Teacher: “More trouble with that…Velma child!”
Principal: “To the Maypole.”
For those only children out there, let me elaborate…
OlderBrother: Let’s play catch! (grabs Jarts)
AnnoyingLittleSisterThatWouldDoAnythingToGetBrotherToPlayWithHer:OK!
OB: I throw first
ALSTWDATGBTPWH: I can catch it! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!
Mother: What the hell?
OB:It was her idea
Mother:Damn it, ALSTWDATGBTPWH, why must you start these things?
Or after he beat me up for fun
OB:She Started IT!
Mother: Leave your brother alone, go to your room!
ALSTWDATGBTPWH:But he HIT me!
Mother: Go to your room, I don’t want to hear another word.
OB: giggle
The theory of him being older and wiser never really worked. This is the guy who broke darn near every bone in his body and got his foot caught in an elevator. (That was my fault too, he was looking for me)
At the same time?
My friends and I rediscovered Jarts in the late 80’s and turned it into a hell of a drinking/betting game (I only say “drinking” because we only played it drunk).
Everyone puts a dollar bill on the lawn. From the other side of the lawn everyone throws one dart a turn. Every bill you stab, you keep.
It was great fun.
Of course the same group of people used to play “across the shop darts” which involved throwing steel-tip darts at a dart board on the wall on the other side of the warehouse.
If you hit the soda machine, you lost the rest of your darts for that turn- unless it stuck and then you get another round.