So, Punk has this game he loves to play. He calls it "Chase." It bears a striking resemblance to "Tag" except that there is no tagging. Just running. Did I mention that my cute little red-faced (from exertion, not embarrassment, but that was a good guess), 7-year-old-self used to plop down on the soccer field and pick weed-flowers (mid-field, mind you) during not just practices but actual games? Yeh, not a runner. Especially pointless running, you're-never-going-to-be-tagged running. I'm not sure what the fun of "Chase" is for Punk--maybe it's the silly screaming, giggling Mama that entices him to continue. He really doesn't want to "get" you, he just wants to chase you. And, let me tell you, being the Chaser is really, really, really fun. Oh, I've never, ever gotten to be the Chaser. I only think it must be the best part because Punk laughs and giggles and loves it the whole time. He begs and pleads to play Chase. He puppy-dog-eyes you until you succumb. But, I've never been allowed to be the Chaser, only the hapless victim who must never stop running until I'm so tired that a tantrum actually sounds like a good alternative.