I wasn’t sure what hit me. It was solid and came out of nowhere!

 

I was on my hippity-hop, a giant exercise ball with a handle, hopping down the grass field as fast as I could. I was doing well in second place and had my eye on the prize: master of hippity-hop ball. My legs were burning, my heart was screaming, but I had been trained for this moment my whole life. Well, not really. I didn’t even know we were going to be doing this, or anything. 

 

Our Family Ministry team put on an absolutely fabulous event, the Family Fun Day, on the South Land. The whole team was resplendent in matching zebra outfits, showing their support for the true heroes of every gaming event: referees. You would have been forgiven if you thought that, because of their outfits, they were showing neutrality and placidity. Oh no! The whole team came with an agenda. They were bringing the fun. 

 

There were games that I had only heard of once upon a time. Games that I knew the rich and famous must be playing. Games I saw on reruns on Nick-At-Night or the Brady Bunch; who made such pass times seem out of the reach for me, a common pleb. But lo! There to my surprise where sacks of burlap, ever so neatly placed, staged, as it were, for none other than a potato sack race. 

 

Oh, but stay your ears for the fun did not end so quickly for there was more. With elastic straps of Velcro my wife and I become none other than the best three-legged racer this side of the Cumberland Gap. 

 

Though my tongue be firmly pressed into my check, as I regale you with the vaunted events of that day, I tell you earnestly I have not laughed with such joy in a long time. 

 

Which leads me to the final event. My stratagem of bounce-step and bounce some more was paying off, as I hippity-hopped my way into fame and notoriety as the best field performance ever given. Dozens of minutes of prep work finally paying off, until: the tackle heard round the world… As I fell to the ground I began to realize what Nancy Kerrigan must have felt. The betrayal! Could it be that someone wasn’t taking the hippity-hop race seriously. Seriously!

 

I won’t reveal the name of my assailant. All I can say is his name rhymes with Justin Dordan - I’ve said too much. 

 

What I will say is, after the burgers and dogs, I gained some perspective. Maybe I was overzealous. And as I was eating a grape Icie-pop that was better than it had any right to be, I felt closer to the parents and other families who had joined in the fun. We had a great day. There were games for all ages and everyone had an absolute blast. I look forward to next year already.