Volleyball + Number 2

Imagine me at the gym, playing with my co-ed volleyball team (we're AWESOME by the way :-)). Imagine Lil' J laying on the floor across the court, yelling at the top of his lungs, "MOMMMY, I NEED TO GO POOP!". And again. "MOMMY, I NEED TO GO POOOOOOOOP!. I glance to my teammate "Maybe it can wait." Then imagine J the Great, standing off the court, but closer to me, yelling in a very concerned voice "MOMMY, LIL' J SAID HE HAS TO GO POOP! HE HAS TO GO POOP!". As if I (and the rest of the people in the gym) hadn't heard the very first warning. Of course, Mr. J knows we don't yell those type of things, so he is just watching it all with his typical "I can't believe they just did that" look. The call of nature is always loud in my family and, normally, just at the right time.