Damn The Paddle Ball To Hell!

Ahhh, the good ole paddle ball. No doubt, that item was invented by some ingenious stressed out parent who knew the ball would only stay attached for no more than a few hits in the air – maximum.

 Those of us more skilled at paddle ball however knew how to dismantle it more quickly with just one hit.  Which only hastened it’s intended cunning purpose……. to deliver a good swift swat across the rear.

You’re oblivious to past consequences. Even as it’s being unwrapped out of the plastic cover it came in, you’re reassuring yourself that it’s won’t break this time. You promise you’ll be more careful with it now. You reason the last one was just defective forgetting what happened with the previous paddle balls you begged your parents to buy for you. 

It was like a visicious cycle that you would later hate yourself for, while standing in front of the mirror pulling down your pants assessing the welted impression of what only minutes ago used to be your toy. 

 As your behind is throbbing and tingling you finally get a clear vision and realize maybe you shouldn’t have cried when it broke yet again! As it’s immediately yanked out of your hand and used, followed by the notorious parental soliloquy…..”There, now you really have something to cry about!”

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