Well. It’s happening.
The super deluxo set was ordered.
Son-of-a-wrek researched, clickety click and got the measurements for a amateur court size.
I caught him fixin’ to spray paint my lawn with glow-in-the-dark fluorescent yellow paint, with the boundary lines.
That I’m positive he measured oh, so carefully.
It is at the badminton net, so maybe not .
I hollered don’t paint the grass. He hollered “Aw, Ma. I have to mow this place every week. You need to worry about getting me more paint, not the grass!”
Well, alrighty then.
I really hate the idea of Pickle ball. There’s the irritation of the noise. But mostly just because of the name.
Kinda like Cornhole. I have to add his Cornhole extravaganza only lasted one summer. He spent more time on the construction than the games. I can have some hope of it ending as quick as it started.
Badminton tourneys have lasted 3 summers. And is quite pleasant to watch. Til they start fighting.
It seems plausible the Ball o’Pickle could be a winner.
Go ahead. Mock me, point at me or better yet, put me outta my misery, humanely.
So far, I’m out the cost of the Deluxo set, the glow-in-the-dark paint(4 cans) the Lil’wrekkers new shorts. (Pink and cute with pockets that zip).
Probably have to get more paint. And the balls themselves look like dogs might like them a little too much.
I can’t tell you how many shuttlecocks I’ve bought due to the dog shrinkage loss.
Reminds why the ping-pong table was put away, long ago. That and paddle wars.
Oh crap!
I’d hate to see grown adults chasin’ each other trying to whack each other with Pickle ball paddles. How embarrassing.
Even in cute pink shorts with zippered pockets.