Bombs away!

Over the first couple of days after our return from Yavont Jamie would remember various games and toys that we used to play in Houston. He was very excited to remember what he calls "Throwing balls down to Daddy." I was less enthusiastic. This games involves Jamie standing on the second floor behind the railing while I go to the first floor and look up. He then hurls balls down at me while laughing maniacally. He takes particular joy in my expressions of fear or pain, both of which can be quite genuine. He has figured out to throw multiple balls at once and to vary them by size, weight and hardness, making it impossible for me to defend myself against all of them. At one point he was holding a plastic ball of Connor's, a little larger than a golf ball and about as heavy and hard, with his arm cocked to hurl it at me. I protested, saying "That will hurt Daddy!" "Yeah," he said, "Let's do it!!!"