It's all fun and games, until somebody gets hurt.

When I was about 12 or so, my grandparents gave me a pogo stick for Christmas. I had been wanting one and I loved that thing. I worked and worked until I could go like crazy. I eventually learned to jump with not only one hand, but then with no hands. Trust me, on a pogo stick, that takes real talent. My brother and I both had a ball on it. He was much braver than I and would go up and down stairs.

A few years ago, we got Kate one too. She did not really get into it, so Lee and I have spent some time on it having fun.

Well, last week the little kids and I went for a walk on a most beautiful of spring days. The sun was out it was warm yet still cool enough to enjoy a brisk walk. We were at it for about 45 min. When we got home, the kids wanted to have a try at the pogo stick. Of course they do not weight enough to be able to actually jump, so they wanted me to show them how it is done.

Still being a teenager at heart I of course was happy to comply. I had the best time, jumping in circles, being a cowboy with my arm flying around like I was on a bucking broncho. I felt young again. The kids were smiling and laughing, and so was I.......

Until later that night when I realized that I re injured my ankle/foot. My friend who is a nurse said that I probably pulled a tendon loose taking with it a chip of the bone. OUCH! I have spent a while on crushes, and am now down to a cane. I hate this my kids were on spring break last week, and I couldn't do anything.
I realize that I am no a teenager anymore. I am a full grown adult who has to start watching what I do.

I don't think I like this aging thing.