I just got done playing “Olympic Baseball” with my five year old. I hit the ball and he handed out medals.

If the ball (his little plastic ball, pitched by his little popup toy) hit the fence, I got a bronze. If it cleared the fence into the back yard, I got silver. And if it went over the house, I got gold. I’ve never really been a baseball player, but I got more golds than anything — and although I lost count early on, I’m sure I got a few times as many as Michael Phelps.

Now my arm is sore. Good times.