me + sports = fail.

last night after work, i headed over to my default slave most willing co-worker's house so he could fix the mysterious car rattle before i head out on another holiday road trip. 

while we worked on the car - including laying on the concrete in my skinnies.... oy -  the more fun half of the family knocked some tennis balls back and forth across the driveway. 

{remember when you played in the street as a kid?  like, with a ball?  it was like that.}

and when we finished, we joined in the games.

joined as in - i willingly fetched the wily, out of bounds balls while everyone else swung the racket.

see, my athletic ability is a joke... laughable to everyone.

but i'm always a willing supporter.

i'll drive the golf cart

and fetch your tennis balls.

i'll even sit in the lodge and watch your gear while you ski.

but i certainly don't play!

no, that would be silly.

it's an act of self preservation, mostly. why humiliate myself when i can avoid it?

inevitably, though - i'll get a "here, you hit one" or "want to swing the club?"

which is code for "i'm frustrated with my score this round... i could use a little comic relief."

and i'll do it... becuase i never say no to a challenge.

now, my mom swears she was the badminton champ in high school.

but hand/eye/ball/racket coordination must skip a generation...

because i wasn't so good.

i mean... i hit it.  i just made my tennis partner run for the ball a lot more than she made me.

but we had fun and played outside like 14 year old girls and laughed. and LAUGHED.

and it wasn't even always at me.