A little livening up required me thinks. The best way to do it is to write summat that ruffles BBS's feathers a little, so here goes.

"Mummy, she's spoiling my game!" Young Charlie Thompson complained to his mum His little sister Wendy was such an inconsiderate two-year old, constantly putting her own in-built, nature driven desire to learn and develop before Charlie's fun.

"When will you two learn to play nice?" His mum asked Charlie and his sister Wendy, offering a fleeting glance at the toddler to pacify Charlie.

"It's not me mum, it's her.." Charlie continued. "She's playing with my remote control car and she keeps crashing into things. She'll break it mum. I never do that!" Charlie said, man-handling the plastic controller from the grasp of his younger sibling.

"Well that's because girls can't do things as good as boys Charlie. You'll find this rings true all your life son" his mum educated him thoughtfully, whilst pulling on her rubber marigolds. "Why don't you play a nice game of catch with your tennis ball?" she suggested.

"Catch?" Charlie piped up. "Er.. HELLO! She can't chuck properly mum! Her elbow's all over the place, like her knees when she runs. And she closes her eyes when I throw it to her. So how are we gonna play 'catch'? I'm the only one who can catch. She just drops."

"Well you can chuck it underarm gently to her can't you? You'll just have to lower your own God given competetive tendencies and desire to succeed, in order to compensate for her generic lack of timing, anticipation and natural hand/eye/ball co-ordination Charlie" mum explained. "I know; why don't you get the badminton raquets out and have a nice game of shuttlecock over the washing line?"

"Get serious mum! She always misses it. She can't keep a decent rally going. God I hate sisters. Why couldn't you have got me a nice intelligent, sports loving brother?"

"Well sometimes my petal, you just have to accept that little girls aren't as good at stuff as little boys." his mum sighed, acknowledging her own inferiority. Just then Charlie's father staggered into the garden, three sheets to the wind, having been out on a particularly heavy drinking session, whilst playing 5's & 3's down the pub.

"Daddy, daddy; Wendy keeps spoiling all my games. Will you and mummy play with me?" Charlie pleaded.

"Well, I'll tell you what son, I'll play with you, but your mum's got far too many pots and pans to wash before she runs the vac round and makes yer dad's dinner. (burp!) Mummy's aren't very good multi-taskers (hic!) son, so we'll have to wait until she finishes all her other chores. [To the missus] Stick 'kettle on will yer luv?."

"Ohhh! Is that's why you say mum's shouldn't be allowed to drive daddy? Too many things to do at once? Is that why you never see lady clowns cos they can't juggle and ride them bikes wi' one wheel at the same time?"

"That's right Charlie. Well done son" his father smiled, unable to hide the pride he felt having trained Charlie to think in a manner so befitting. With that, Charlie and his dad went indoors to play a nice complicated game on the Playstation, where thay had to use both thumbs simultaneously, in conjunction with what they were seeing on the screen to guide some soldiers through a hostile desert-type environment, shooting Arabs as they went.