Washer toss - the sport of Queens. And Monkeys.

Well, it's been a very full four weeks.


Firstly, Mr. and Mrs. Monkey were here. That involved a lot of shopping for food and wine and obscure Canadian beers; preparation and consumption of aforementioned food, wine and obscure Canadian beers, followed by work, repeat as necessary.

Gone are the days when the Monkeys and I would tear the town apart, put it back together and paint it red in search of a good time. We have settled nicely into painting the back garden a nice orange firelight glow.

Seen through the nice wine glass.

But it was great to see them. It's great to see them particularly, but it's also great to spend time with people who know you since forever and just get you, so you don't have to work out whether their facial expressions mean you have overstepped some invisible Canadian social boundary.

Which are legion.

If you overstep the boundary with people who know you forever, they just tell you to fuck off. In a nice way of course.


And of course it was even better because Mrs. Monkey and I proved yet again the superiority of the female species by whupping male ass in the washer toss stakes.

Washer toss is the best game.





The two boxes you see in the picture above are placed approximately twenty feet apart. Two teams of two people each play, a member of each team behind each box. You take turns to throw washers into the box. Within a stick's length of the box is one point; in the box is two points; in the white tube (which is inside the box) is three points. First team to twenty one wins.


Easy peasy.


Even if you've had a few beers. It's all about the heft of the washer in your hand as you let it fly in the air.


My weren't Himself and Mr. Monkey flailing around in a sea of missed opportunity and overshot throwing attempts.


Ha!


We had to give up after a while, such was the sulking that was going on. And when we let them win a game - the overbearing sense of superiority (quickly diminished by a swift kicking in the following two games) was pretty unpalatable.


I fear, although our menfolk are excellent in the areas of providing, caring, loving and doing their share of the housework, they show their true colours in the area of washer toss.


We didn't let it spoil our evenings though.


Me and Mrs. Monkey didn't, I mean.


The Queen Parents are coming for a two week stay on Saturday; I wonder how the Queen Dad will take his beating at washer toss.