Family Reunion
"Touchdown!" Tom's dad leapt off the couch, dropping his game controller onto the floor1as he started doing a horrific dance, waving one arm about like an elephant's trunk as he shimmied back and forth.
"Tippy toe left, tippy toe right," Dad sang. "Our team's the best, we're1outta sight!"
"Dad," Tom groaned, not too happy about losing once again in Football video game—in overtime, no less. The awful victory dance only made it worse,1and the old man didn't show signs of stopping anytime soon, shaking his1larger-than-usual rear end from side to side.
"Watermelon, watermelon, watermelon rind! Look at the scoreboard and1dee who's behind!"
"Dad, the neighbors might be watching through the window. Please stop."
"Two, four, six, eight . . . okay, that's enough." Dad flopped back onto the1couch, breathing deeply as if he'd just run a six-minute mile. "Whew, all that1celebratin' can really wear a man out. I wish you'd win more often and make1it