Last night we took a family walk and came across this empty lot in the middle of one of my favorite areas of Savannah.
A small soccer ball was in the middle of the grass. A soccer ball, like that of a small puppy, is an itch that simply cannot go unscratched for most people. There has to be some sort of interaction. I, on the other hand, see both soccer balls and puppies and shiver with fear. We passed it around for a bit and I once again proved to everyone that I had not been lying for the past year and a half when I said that I am a terrible athlete. Soccer especially, due to it’s association with some of the most potent of childhood memories.
we got bored I kicked it into the street far enough away that I didn’t want to run after it and I suggested that we stop playing. They took the bait and we moved onto something much more my speed: a cross country kart wheel competition.
Here we all are at the beginning of the marathon, still in somewhat good form and focus.
(L to R: Spencer, Olivia, Claire, Julia)
And this is after about a dozen or so when things started to fall apart.
Olivia and her cheerleading crony, Spencer won by a long shot.
Yes, that pathetic crumple of a human on the far left in the bottom picture is me.
I love cool Sunday evenings.