Maximum Burn (Kinect Sports)

My dad used to drink so much at parties my mom would demand the keys so she could safely drive us home. My dad would stubbornly refuse, look at me and say "What do you think, Evan? Do you think I'm OK to drive?" I didn't know what being drunk was. I knew that alcohol was something my dad and other adults drank that smelled funny and tasted worse. I knew that there were people called alcoholics, who stumbled around back alleys in cartoons and saw pink elephants. My dad wasn't one of those people. I would stick up for my dad in those moments, which happened multiple times. "Let dad drive! Let's go!" I couldn't think of a reason why he shouldn't be driving. I remember one night driving home when my dad started to swerve all over the road, exaggeratedly going in and out of the other lane, laughing wildly while the car careened all over the road. "Jesus Christ! Stop! Pull over right now, goddamnit!" My mom would say. Goddamnit was always her go to swear word to show she really meant whatever she was saying. My dad pulled over and halfheartedly tried to stay behind the wheel. "Aww, come on, it was just a joke." My mom got out of the car and demanded he get out as well. He sheepishly got out of the car and walked around to the passenger's side, grinning. He looked back at me. "Looks like your mom can't take a joke, huh kiddo?" I wanted to stick up for my dad again, but I didn't say anything. My mom looked serious, I didn't want to upset her. She didn't have much of a sense of humor. I thought it was a pretty funny joke that dad pretended he didn't know how to drive.