GRIN # 368
Tyler came home yesterday, and I peppered him with questions like I usually do.
“Did you have a special?” I asked. (They call music, art and PE “specials.” I have no idea why).
“No. But we did have Pepi.”
“Oh, Pepi! Did you know I used to be a Pepi student?” I asked Tyler. “Let me see if I can guess what ya’ll played.”
“Okay,” agreed Tyler.
“Uh…Duck, duck goose?” he shook his head. “Red light, green light?” Wrong again. “Mother May I??”
“No!” he yelled.
“Fine. I give up. What did you play?”
“Silent ball?” I asked, smiling. “Seriously?”
Which of course is a catching game with all kinds of rules, of which the most important is to be silent.
It’s completely brilliant. I’m only sad I never thought of it twenty years ago when I was a high school Pepi student. And people talk trash about our youth. The most creative thing our Pepi group did was inadvertently moon the athletic director’s wife who was driving in the car behind us.
Well. The mooning wasn’t inadvertent, but we could have been a little smarter in choosing a recipient.
The point is, high schoolers love the Pepi program because they get to leave campus and teach little kids games. And leave campus. And hang out. And, yeah, the kids. But really the kids are kind of the fly in the ointment.
Ironically, the kids love the high schoolers a lot more than the games. They jabber on so. I remember they jabbered so much I had to actually pay attention to them.
But now there’s Silent Ball, the athletic equivalent of Quiet Time.
I love it.
The real question is, how can I apply this at home?
“Hey, wanna play Silent Grocery Store Trip?“