Don’t Roquet My Croquet

This is the story of three young, beautiful, savvy single ladies. Actually, sorry to bore you, but there is no exciting story to report, except for the fact that my little sister, cousin and I tried our hand(le) at croquet. We talked in British accents, which lasted no more than 34 seconds as our Uff-da’s soon revealed our true roots.
If you are not an avid croquet player, allow me to enlighten you on the word “roquet.” It stated that word several times in our little rule book and so we made up the definition ourselves. Turns out, we were right as I verified the information on dictionary.com ~ ROQUET: to cause one’s ball to strike another players ball…
…and strike we did! We tried to be ladies, but it didn’t last long. Soon we were wailing each other’s croquet balls over the river and through the woods…to the bocce ball players court we go! Despite the heated competition, we managed to make amends in time for some amazing italian food and good laughs.
(well, they think we made amends – however, I’m still a bit sore about my 3rd place rankings. But that’s just between you and me!)

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