Stretchy bands? Check. Hand weights? Check. Bumpy red balls? Check. Ready for my home exercise session...
Even though they were half the size, something about how those squishy balls felt reminded me of an earlier time. As I counted down the last repetition, it started to come back to me.
It was 1960-something and we had “retired” to the Living Room. That was outrageously unusual, since this more formal space was reserved for visits from our pastor and opening Christmas presents. I never really understood why Santa didn’t drop our presents down the adjacent Family Room chimney, but that’s how it was for most of my childhood.
Then things began to change. In addition to the pastor dropping by and the unwrapping of presents, some other moments made the Living Room cut.
After Saturday supper Mom, Dad, brother David and I gathered for Family Card & Game Night! (My sister Betty’s graduation into college life prevented her participation.)
Sometimes it was a rousing round of Yahtzee or Chinese checkers. If it was Mom’s choice, the challenge was on to outscore her in Canasta or Rummy. She kept track with the running total placed inside the rubber-banded card decks until the next time we played.
Well, this particular evening there was a newcomer to the party. It arrived in a square box and popped out all alone. There was nothing else except the instructions. No dice, no marbles, no cards.
Just a bumpy red ball about the size of a volleyball.
How could this possibly be any fun??
A couple of hours later, we had found out. Playing with the Bump Ball was hilariously fun!
I watched spellbound in disbelief as my usually prim and proper parents started with the ball between their heads and then rolled it down to match shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, and knee to knee until it dropped. They must have been practicing before sharing the game with us kids, because they were actually quite good at it.
My brother and I were not. I’m blaming it on the height difference, but our proficiency was most certainly affected by my uproarious laughter. I couldn’t stop giggling and then the hiccups started.
As if the family spending time together having fun wasn’t special enough, what happened next made me catch my breath.
Mom brought refreshments into the Living Room. What?!
That’s right, lemonade in little paper cups. Weren’t those easily tip-overable by a child my age?
And homemade lemon bars. Weren’t they saved for especially special occasions?
Mom loved her lemon-flavored-anything, so this was a double whammy of how much she valued that evening. No milk and nutrition food here.
She treated us like almost-adults, and it felt great to be lovingly “bumped up”!
Even if we all still just looked like kids, goofing around with a squishy ball.
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I’d love to support you in capturing childhood memories that may have meant more than you realized back then. Now it’s time to let your children and grandchildren get to know more about their playful ancestors…especially YOU!!
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JOYfully jotting,
Katie
Family PhotoStory Organizer
Mini-Stories Writing Coach
Your Legacy of Memories Mentor
Capturing Mini-Moments that Matter…
Energizing & Connecting Families for Generations!