In a unrealistically non-discriminatory manner, I tend to be rather competitive. In parlor games, lawn activities & pastimes where I have little to no experience: canasta, bocce & darts to name a few. So last night, after baby-bedtime & before darkness fell, I challenged Nic to a cherry-pit spitting contest. The rules: you must be seated, chairs are parallel, you count where the pit initially falls (not where it bounces). My goal was to clear the edge of the patio & work my way toward hitting the back fence. To my dismay, Nic outdistanced me by a solid 3 feet every spit. Getting annoyed, I watched his technique a bit more closely to find a distinct, genetic advantage. He can roll his tongue into a perfect tube, & I can not. Many summers I tried to "learn" this trick, it just doesn't happen. Thus, my defeat was inevitable.