Protective Gear

I never liked dodgeball in school.

Actually, I only remember playing it once and I was slammed with the ball before I even knew what hit me.

I don’t like getting hurt.  Physically or emotionally, pain is not my thing.  I don’t mind being physically sore or even emotionally pissed off, but I try to avoid pain.  Even if there’s a big payoff or some super duper surprise, it’s not worth the risk in my eyes.

Maggie started a new school this year.  She walks right up to children at school and talks to them, asks them questions about the school or a book they’re reading.  She tells students she’s new and even texted one of the girls she swims with to ask if she would introduce her to some of her friends.

I asked her how it’s been going over the last week and she says, “Well, some of them look at me like I’m nuts.  Most of them are nice, but the girl from swim never texted me back.  Eh, who cares, I did meet this cool friend in the library.”

Maggie clearly not only likes dodgeball, she’s really good at it.

My thoughts from the laundry room.  Duck Under the Covers.

4 thoughts on “Protective Gear

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