The Throwing Game

The other day I had an appointment and came home to the girls running around dodging Daddy.  He plays this game with them where he will sit on the couch and they will run around and he will chuck the couch pillows at them, not toss but literally the object is to knock them over.
OK well this time he was throwing balls at them.  I assumed they were their little foamy balls but no it was a plastic golf ball.  He accidentally hit me and it stung so bad as I immediately flung a glare at him.  There was a red mark on my head; I can't imagine what kind of imprint it will leave on the girls.
They laugh hysterically when they get hit.  My thought is they don't really feel it with all the adrenaline they have surging threw them!
"Steve, do you really think it is smart in any way to teach them to chuck things, especially hard things, at each other?"
Honestly, how is this story going to end???
I'm waiting....
And of course I'll let you know.

No Throwing Balls in the House

Before I left the career world to stay home with my girls we were able to afford a cleaning lady.  She would come once a week and I would step into my home and feel a wonderful calmness rush over me, and I was happy.  As with most families the rules are many but one usually tops the list; don't throw balls in the house.  Well, I came home and asked S what happened to the yellow vase I loved that typically sat on the shelf in the kitchen?  This was a special vase to me.  It was cheap but a little old lady I adored gave it to me so the value was untouchable.  He acted like he didn't know what I was talking about.  Hmmm very suspicious.  One- he isn't a good liar and two- he acts like a boy.  Well well well.  Look who is still here cleaning.  The cleaning girl totally ratted him out.  Him and the girls were not throwing bouncy balls or rubber balls or even tennis balls.  They were throwing golf balls.
 END. OF. STORY.