Tennis Dad

My dad really wants me to play tennis. I mean, I really like tennis. I'm serious. I like hitting the ball and I am ready to play points on a real court. My dad keeps repeating the same thing over and over again. "Bring the racket, down and low. Bring it back, turn, down and low. Follow through to the shoulder."
You don't have to repeat everything. I tell him. Sometimes it seems like his head is going to explode, which is also fun.

Daddy: Now I have a taste of what Richard Williams and Peter Graf went through. I want my girls to climb to the top of the tennis world, and this desire came on so suddenly. Since I couldn't be a great champion it would be awesome if my girls were great champions. I can teach them. I can. I can guide them.

Yes. I need to relax. In deed. Maddy was on the court for the first time. They don't have to be champions. They just have to have fun and maybe one day play with silly dad on the courts. But if they want me to be a tennis dad, I am willing to go there. Oh boy.

Also, Emma has her first catch phrase. She likes to say, "I'm serious." She says it after obvious statements, like, "I like Pink Berry. I'm serious." Today Maddy said, "Serious dude." It's unsettling, but I am not going to squash her catch phrase. Not now.