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Today was Sunday, and sometimes, on Sunday, we wrestle. It was morning, and Ella begged Dad to wrestle. He finally gave in, but told us to do 10 push-ups first, to warm up. We also ran around the house. Brooke ran to the room, and the battle began.
We have no strategy, but we know what to do. Dad claimed the bed, while we claimed the beanbag. Dad got that for his b-day. I went first, but he caught me in his legs. I know all his moves, but he still catches me.
There's The Tickle, The Feet, The Punch, and The Hurl. The names are self-explanatory.
The battle rages on, with no exact victor(even though Dad clearly wins), and we still fight. We eventually end the fight when I am almost crying from my sore spot, Ella is tired, and Brooke wants to do something else. And the battle ends.
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Cool!
Fun!
