This happened today

It's been happening for days. They're playing catch. D could play all afternoon, pitch > catch > pitch > catch endlessly and effortlessly. And E? He stays with the program for a while, and then somehow his glove ends up tossed on the roof of the garage. From there, after a moment or two of false lament, all activity shifts to retrieving the glove, every day in a new way. It's like when babies toss things down from the highchair just to see how many times they can get away with it -- how long you'll play along. So. Apparently with this game and participants the answer is ... forever! Today's solution? A 9' bamboo pole. Sure. Why not? Note the flat basketball in the little nook by the garage wall. That's where we keep our flat basketballs. In the little nook. Also scattered under fruit trees and in the gardens. And take a look at the little red splotch on the garage door. That's where D affixed the duct tape to cover the hole smashed in the door with his lacrosse ball. It was an accident. Ok, back to the glove retrieval exercise. See how D's getting frustrated? Can you feel that? Just let me do it. That's what he's saying.
Ultimately, success. And with success, the victory bamboo spear toss game, gloves not included. Oh, so D asked me to play catch with him while E launched a one man water fight, threatening repeatedly to blast us. So D was horrified by my aim, my form, my launch, and excruciatingly found it simpler to reach out with his bare hand to stop the balls as they loped by him than to bother with the glove hand. Sigh. The boys used to think I could throw just fine.