Kickball

Back in the day we used to go to my dad's college friends houses.  There were always the first awkward 10 minutes where kids from all the families were told to "mingle" and become insta-friends.  Usually it didn't even take that long to pick up right where we left off about 6 months before.  In typical fashion I could be found with the adults eating hors d'oeuvres for the first half hour and then proceed to hang out with the rest of the kids.  One particular time we went over to the Lemenager's house.  We all used to love going out there because they had a trampoline and a swing set and we always played soccer (they thought Olivia and I were awesome for some reason.)  This summer night there were a couple families which meant lots of kids.  Being the competitive people that we are, we decided to organize a kickball game.  It was going pretty well (my team was winning, obviously) until it was my turn at bat.  The ball rolled in at the perfect angle, I geared up and gave it my all.  My all, however, was a little too much.  I hit the pitcher directly in the arm and he fell to the ground.  At first I tore off towards first base because we all thought he was laughing and by the time I was rounding second, we realized he was crying and clutching his arm.  After careful debate we decided to tell the parents what had happened and he was shuffled off to the emergency room.  Word came back that it was just a hairline fracture which wasn't so bad.  I still felt awful and every time we have gone back to their house, the boy who's arm I broke has had "previous commitments" which made me feel even worse but his parents just laugh it off.  Hard to believe that all 70 pounds of me could break a kids arm but it won me some street cred for a little while.  I wonder what he told people happened...