Had another round with the kiddo. This time he got to play his cars!

They’re the ones in blue. He’s nothing if not consistent in his paint schemes. I expect his upcoming saurus warriors to be blue with red stripes. I bank money on it, even.

The game started off fine with some back and forth. We played with sidearms and everything so there were many, many potshots. He felt comfortable talking trash and got into the swing very quickly.

He then… learned you probably shouldn’t talk trash to your old man. It triggers something in us dads and a lesson had to be learned.

As the game continued I started to peel away. Here, note that you don’t see my orange rusty car from above. That’s because it managed to slip away and take the lead by a significant margin.

He did his best to give chase and lay more traps, but…

It wasn’t enough. I slipped away entirely and took the race.

Am I proud that I beat a ten year old at Gaslands? Of course not. But will my son think twice before talking trash next time?

Eh. Probably not. Good game, kid.