It was a beautiful day. After lunch, I challenged my dad to a homophone game that I just came up with. Since I usually win at tongue twisters, I thought I'd have an advantage. The rules were simple: we would take turns saying sentences with homophones that were as confusing as possible. The other player had to figure out the correct meaning. For example, I might say, “A knight comes over at night,” or “I bury the berry at Barry’s yard.” We spent the whole afternoon playing, and neither of us wanted to give up. In the end, we were both confused and exhausted. Why on earth had I invented a game to torture myself! It was a silly idea!