A kid told me I was too fat and too old to play, so I beat him at his own game.

Last week, I, a 50-year-old woman, was told by a 12-year-old boy that I was too fat and too old

to understand handball. I watched him play with the other kids for a bit, and he was a complete

C-word about it all.

He had deliberately taunt the younger kids, promised them he wouldn't get them out, and then

send devastatingly fast balls at their heads, and point and laugh when they got out of the way.

He changed the rules, so he never got out and blatantly cheated.

I inserted myself into the game. He was very condescending and promised

to go easy on me, and I smashed that ball all over the court. Low shots, high shots,

balls with spin, he didn't stand a chance. The best bit was, after I got him out for the fourth time,

all the other kids cheered. I spent the rest of the afternoon

teaching the younger kids how to play while he skulked in the corner. It was petty as frick

and immature as hell, but it was super satisfying to see him get his comeuppance. Yes, I'm a terrible

person, but he was much nicer to the other kids the next day. For those wondering why a

50-year-old is playing with kids, I'm currently working as an out-of-school hours care educator

in Australia. I'm talking about handball as in the lunchtime game played by school kids, also known

as four square. In this particular version of the game, you each stand in a small square that's

part of a larger square. You hit a tennis ball to each other with your hands. The squares are

designated ace, king, queen, and dunce. If you're an ace and you get out, you go back to dunce.

If you're in any of the other squares, you leave the field, and someone else comes in.

We don't play dodgeball, that's barbaric.

I was both annoyed by his attitude to the younger kids when he won, and by his assumptions

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