Kickball on a Sunny Day

I was alone with my class on the playground this week, sitting in a chair among the rocks, fumbling with a list of awards on my lap. That was the plan, to watch the class play during their regularly scheduled PE, while creating a list of possible awards I'd be giving next week. Mr. Barrett was away for the day with the 4th, 5th and 6th grade students at a track meet, so I thought I'd enjoy the sun while giving my class a little playground time, PLUS get that list of awards made. Teachers are pretty good at multi-tasking.

Some girls were swinging and singing right behind me. Two or three others were playing hand games in the grass. And right in front of me, out of nowhere, like a tornado or something, a kickball game sprung up. Within seconds, teams were chosen and the ball was rolling.

Not one more time did I look at that list of awards. I was IN that game (although I did remain seated). I was a 10 year old girl playing kickball at Hanthorn Elementary in Independence, Missouri.

The memories just flooded me...how much I loved playing when I was young, the recognition I received from my classmates when I was chosen to be on their team, the running, the dodging, the kicking!

I listened to all the giggling and chanting and gasping for air as the one with the ball chased the runner, or the fielders chased the ball across the playground. I saw kids having fun with each other and with a game that I had enjoyed so many years ago.

I'm older, that's for sure, no longer 10 or anywhere close. But I decided on that sunny day on the playground that I should put aside some of my grownup obligations and go out for a game of kickball soon.