About yesterday’s blog. Some people apparently never played “Push Up” as children.
Here’s how it works. You lie down in the grass, bend your knees, and then pull them toward your chest with the bottoms of your bare feet at an angle. After your playmate places her hiney on the soles of your feet, you give a push and propel her forward in a nice little arc.
One day, my sister, who is older and wiser, said that instead of propelling me forward, she was going to propel me upward. Who was I to disagree? She was the tall, photogenic one who was smart enough to skip a grade. I was the short, not-so photogenic one, who was smart enough to skip a rope. If she said it was up, then up it was.
But, of course, every up has its down.
Which is how she broke my arm. Which is why I write with a limp to this day.
The leading cause of writer's limp
year-struck 
The limp “becomes” you. Glad I came over, humor is a great way to start the day. Thanks
I did NOT break your arm…the ground broke your arm. And really, it’s time to put this very small incident behind you, sweetie, ‘cuz we both know I’ve done worse things for you to harp on. Your loving, and oh-so-photogenic Big Sis
Don’t try to confuse me with your cleverness. It makes my limp hurt.
We played this game for hours, and nearly daily in the summer. We had many different versions……pushing off from the butt, from the stomach, we even tried to do it from the feet on feet position. Circque deSoleil has nothing on us. Luckily, there were no serious injuries.
We spent most summers outside too, going in and out of all the neighbors’ houses, banging screen doors, and begging for kool-aid. It was wonderful.
My daughter was propelled through the air, like a cannon ball, when she was in grade one. The grade sevens loved using her as their object of pleasure because she had trained in rhythmic (YES! That was a hard word to spell and I still don’t know if it’s correct) gymnastics and would do all manner of trick as she was airborne…well, on one of these unfortunate occasions, she also suffered a fracture, the wrist, with a bad landing! OUCH! Thanks for being one of my ONLY readers. You inspire and support! May you have a blessed Christmas! I really enjoyed your Christmas tree musings! :0)
Your poor daughter. I hope that was the only hard fall she had.
I enjoy your blog, and I hope that you get more readers in this coming year.
I have a sister-broke-my-arm story, too. We lived up north (Ohio, I think) and were playing “KEEP AWAY” at the top of one of those old-fashioned very tall metal slides. One kid sits at the top on the platform, and the other kid crab-walks up the metal slide, while the kid at the top tries to push them back down the slide with their extended feet. We had played the games hundreds of times, giggling and laughing and sliding our way back down the slide. Then one day she was on the platform, pushing me back down the slide, when she unceremoniously hooked her foot under my armpit and booted me over the side. I landed with a thud on the asphalt below, breaking my right shoulder and my right arm. Of course, I’ve never let her forget it, either.
*obviously, in this day and age, this story could never happen. The tall metal slides are all gone, replaced by chunky thick short plastic versions, and playgrounds have mulch or recycled tires these days instead of asphalt. How did we ever survive?
How funny that we both had this experience at the feet of our sisters. It’s kind of fun to have something to bring up over and over. 🙂
I often wonder how we survived.