The Foorce

Prospect Park Tennis Domes

Every week James plays adaptive tennis at the Prospect Park tennis center (awesome program), and during the colder months the outdoor courts are covered in giant domes. Domes, not bubbles, as I was harshly reprimanded on the walk over to tennis practice the other day.

Well, once I realized how sensitive he was about my terminology (remember James’s horrific phobia of anything that could conceivably pop), and since he wasn’t exactly polite about it, I couldn’t help but poke around a bit to see just how far I could go. Teasing? Ehhh… Funny? Oh, yeah.

(Walking down the street toward the tennis center)

James: I’m cold.

Me: Don’t worry, we’re almost there. See the bubbles?

James: What?

Me: Look – the giant white bubbles are right over there.

James: You mean domes?

Me: What?

James: Domes. Not bubbles.

(1 minute later)

James: They’re not bubbles.

Me: And they don’t pop either.

James: What don’t pop?

Me: Those… hot air balloons right over there.

James: You mean those igloos?

Me: I mean those giant blown up things right in front of us.

James: It’s not good to make others feel bad, right?

Me: Right.

James: Like you know, like you somehow push somebody? (gestures with both arms in a pushing motion)

Me: What?

James: Like it’s not good to play with explosives, either.

Me: James, I said the word bubble. Seriously?

James: It’s. A. Dome.