Hacky Sack

I’m sure most of you don’t know this, I have four kids. All boys.  When my oldest was 13 he was involved in the local Boy Scouts.  And, because he was involved, and the fact I couldn’t think of a good excuse fast enough then they asked me help out, I’m was involved too.

So after Scouts one night the boys invited me to play a game of “Hacky Sack” with them (if you don’t already know a Hacky Sack is a small round-ish beanbag that you kick around a circle of friends, trying to keep it off the ground as long as you can).  I played a little bit in High School, and really, I fear NO bean bag.  Besides, I’m hip, so I agreed to play.  The fact that I’m fatter then I was in high school, I get winded if I have to run to answer the phone, and they don’t use words like “hip” anymore didn’t even cross my mind.

So there I am, dumb, fat and happy kicking this little sack around and, I have to tell you, holding my own against these young men, when the other adult leaders see us.  Just to give you a mental image of these other adult leaders, they are all involved in the local Basketball leagues, one of them runs marathons and several times a year they ALL dress up like trees to go kill large animals.  In other words; perfect men for scout leaders, and then there is me, whose idea of “roughing it” is having to take the elevator down two floors to find the ice machine.    These leaders, apparently seeing me as easy prey, came over to join us.  In little time we adults crowded the young men out of the game, who decided it would be more fun to play basketball.  So there we are five adult men, in a circle kicking this sack around, when the scout leader kicks the sack over my head.  With, what I hoped, would be described as  “the speed and agility of a great athlete” (but I’m sure it was described as “the pose, grace and fluidity of watching pigs mate”), I spastically kick my leg out in a valiant effort to save this bean filled sack from touching the floor.  Halfway down I realize gravity had me in her awful grip, and there was no stopping.  My hands flew out in a desperate attempt to stop what was inevitable.

As the screams of pain reverberated off the gymnasium walls I realized with horror that I had pulled a groin.  Oh yes, you read correctly.  I pulled a groin.  I’m just so glad it wasn’t mine!!!