The Big Pink Ball

Two weeks ago my oldest daughter, McDaniel, asked to ride her bike

(actually, her bike is having some tire tube trouble 

i.e. it's flat, 

so she rode Monte's bike) 

to her school to watch her friends playing softball, tennis and track all within walking distance of one another.

After having a sports schedule to follow since August, it is so nice that McDaniel can now just be a fan

watching and cheering for others for a change.

It was a warm, sunny day.

We heard storms were coming that night so we asked her to keep an eye on the sky and leave BEFORE it got scary.

We saw the sky getting darker and darker from our living room windows.

So we texted her.

No response.

We tried to call.

No response.

Honestly! 

Why do we even pay for her to have a phone??

She finally responded that she had popped into a local sandwich shop for a bite to eat and just now saw the skies.

She was going to finish eating and be on her way.

It got windier 

and windier 

and darker 

and darker.

We expected to see her riding up the driveway any minute.

Instead the phone rang.

McDaniel's scared voice was on the line telling us the principal evacuated the entire track and softball teams and fans into the school cafeteria and was asking her to do the same.

We told her we were on the way to get her.

Monte helped me lay down the seats in the Manvan to accommodate his bike.

As we backed out of the driveway,

we saw a big pink ball 

bouncing down the middle of our street 

right towards us.

Considering the wind, it was moving relatively slow

just boinkity

boinkity

bouncing

along.

UNTIL it got to our front yard

where it took a HARD RIGHT 

and boinkity bounced right into our yard.

Monte and I looked each other making sure we each saw what we just saw.

We did.

It was like this pink ball knew where it was going.

Then we realized McDaniel was still at school, scared and without a ride and the storm was still blowing in fast.

I zoomed to the school.

McDaniel ran right to the car with the bike and before I could even hop out to help put it in the car, Monte hopped on and yelled that he would just ride it home.

What?!

In this storm?!

McDaniel and I protested, but Monte was half-way down the street.

As we made our way home, a loud crack of lightning seemed to strike on the other side of the school track from us

right where Monte was pedaling down the street.

McDaniel cried out something to the tune of, "Daddy's dead!"

We tried to turn down a side street to intersect his path but it was blocked with school busses loading the opposing track and softball teams to head home.

Then we caught sight of him.

Monte is tall.

But his height is all torso height

not leg length.

In fact, at 6'3", his inseam is the same as my dad's who stands only 5'8".

[Close your eyes and just imagine that on a bike.]

Do it!

I'll wait.

Yeah, Monte on bike is like a lightning rod peadaling.

All height.

And he has very good posture.

I thought to myself as I saw him, "Hunker down!"

But he didn't.

He was riding so fast, I could hear the witch music from The Wizard of Oz.

Or he was caught in a wind gust.

Of course, we got stuck at a light.

"Go back and find him! Make sure he makes it home!" McDaniel kept pleading.

As soon as the light turned green we started our search.

We found him pulling into our drive--he beat us!

We all met up inside excited to be safe and home.

We forgot all about the big pink ball until the next day.

The girls asked about it and we explained its boinkity bouncing journey in the middle of the storm.

Its a wonder it didn't blow right out of our yard.

Our dog, Nigel, LOVED his new toy that always seemed a bit out of range to bite.

And it was nice to give him some much needed exercise.

We played with that ball many times after dinner hitting it back and forth to each other around a circle seeing how long we could keep it off the ground.

It was such a gift

this cheap, recess 

big pink ball.

It made us play together.

We took video of the dog enjoying it.

That is my finger on top of the video. Oops.

We took pictures of US enjoying it.

Doesn't it look like it is perched on the wires?
It's not.

Look by our hammock. Our kindergarten neighbor girl is watching us play.

Look by the tree. That is our neighbor's dog watching Nigel play. His name is Monte. I know. My 83-year-old
neighbor thinks she's funny. Especially when she hollers at the dog by name IN FRONT of Monte. The man.
 That is my finger on the bottom of the picture. Oops.

This big pink ball made others want to play.

When another storm blew in last week, we hurried to put it into the garage lest it decide to make another journey into another yard.

We weren't ready for it to leave just yet.

See, after a l-o-n-g season of golf and basketball and ice skating,

not to even mention the l-o-n-g-e-s-t winter EVER,

we needed this big pink ball to get us to just play.

We laughed and laughed and got competitive and yelled at each other and screamed eww when it landed in dog poop.

Or when we landed in dog poop.

But we cleaned off and continued to play.

I got this picture last night via email while McDaniel and I were at a meeting.

It said, quite simply, "R.I.P. pink ball."

Nigel finally figured out how to sink his teeth into it.

We are sad.

I know, we can go to any grocery store and replace the ball

and believe me, we will.

But there was something so special about the way it came to us

in a storm

and reminded us to play.

**We were featured on The Lettered Cottage playing with the big pink ball! Go check it out!**