Yep, that's definitely me. I apparently come from a long line of ballaholics - my great grandfather played pro football back in the days of leather helmets, all four of my grandparents are terrific athletes, and my parents (as you all know), are a bit insane when it comes to competitive sports. So it's pretty fair to say it's in my blood.
I honestly can't help myself, I must throw any ball in site. It doesn't matter if they are small or big, blue or orange, mine or not - I must have them. Amid 100 toys at playgroup I can sniff out the hidden ping pong ball in the bottom of the toy bin - I know, it's a gift. 
I don't care if a dog has just licked it, I will scoop it up and away I go. In the car, at the house, during church, in the park, it doesn't matter the location, I must have a ball. (Hey, this sounds like a Dr. Seuss book!) And if it's not "officially" a ball, but still can be tossed, that will serve as my fix. Should I be worried? Do you think there is a cure?
No comments:
Post a Comment
We LOVE getting comments, so start posting!