On Wednesday for the past few weeks the homeschool group has gotten together and let the kids play kickball and softball. The younger ones (under 1st or 2nd grade) just do kickball and the older (up to 13 years old) played both.
The kids have loved it, its low key and fun.
Wednesday I get a phone call from C, she has been coaching the little ones in kickball.
I didn't really think anything of it, we go to the same church, our sons are friends . . .
Ya'll, she asked me to coach! (Did you hear that thud? That was the sound of my family falling off its chair laughing.)
I don't mind admitting, I am horrible at sports. Awful. Beyond belief.
I passed P.E. because I showed up and my teacher took pity on me.
True story: in 1st or 2nd grade we had 2 sisters from Cambodia arrive at our school. They didn't speak a word of English and had to be very overwhelmed. They only went to school with us for a few months before they went to another school (I don't know why).
In 9th grade we went to school together again and became friends. They remembered me from when we first went to school together.
Do you want to know why?
They remembered me as the girl who was afraid of the ball - which I might add is something I haven't outgrown.
So I "coached" kickball.
I suppose it went ok, nobody cried, there was no blood. Really there are only 3 of the little ones who have the slightest clue what is going on and one of those kids is Junior.
Talk about out of my comfort zone though!