Ping Pong

It’s not the most aesthetically pleasing piece of furniture we have ever added to our home…..it’s an ugly shade of green with a white stripe up the middle and it has a net that goes across it….but it is proving to be my most favorite and one of the best-utilized and appreciated things we have added to our décor and, for that matter, to our lives. Our new ping pong table has become a unifying and calming object.

I’m a decent player…I am too old to remember not knowing how to play. In fact, most people who have dabbled in other racquet sports can play ping pong and I have at times in my life called myself a “tennis player.” It surprised me though, and excited me, when my son Max, who shied away from tennis years ago (having nothing at all to do with my showing slight signs of potential of being a crazed “tennis mom”) wanted a ping pong table. “So it will take up half the basement,” I thought to myself…..but I figured we could find one that folds away…

When it first arrived I looked at it with disdain. Would either child sustain an interest? Would it quickly become nothing more than the potential site for neighborhood beer pong tournaments? I wasn’t thrilled….but both kids really did seem to enjoy playing.

At first, they were “okay” players. Our rallies were short…. games were consistently won by Moi (this aint a house where Mom lets anybody win) and the satisfaction one gets from “banging the ball around” wasn’t there…

But quickly Max was catching on…topspin, slices, wicked fast serves and suddenly, it’s” game on”….and our rallies are longer and our intensity keeps us around the table longer and it has become “our place.”

Even when one of us has had a bad day or we are mad at each other it has become our neutral zone…one of us just says, “Wanna play?” and the other nods and follows and before you know it we are laughing and complimenting each other’s great shots and talking….really talking….about teenage angst and adult stress and about friends and family and about life and politics….or about what’s for dinner or what’s on TV….and an hour can race by before one of us realizes we must do homework or write or be somewhere or before we remember what caused the tension we began playing with….’cause around that ping pong table, it feels like we are more than mother and son, it feels like we are friends….and I have never loved the game more…even though, and I say this with pain and pride...he is now beating me consistently.

Those of you that know me…don’t count me out. After comedy school I will begin ping pong workouts with a professional coach…

Oh...one more thing......

Paula Poundstone said, “Adults are always asking little kids what they want to be when they grow up because they are looking for ideas.” Thanks Max and Syd for your constant inspiration.