When I WAS little? I still am little. I don’t just mean little as in, young, but short, too. Well, I hope that I get a bit taller. No, I hope I get a lot taller when I get older. My Mom, she is 30-years-old and she is kinda tall. My Mom is almost 5’10” so maybe I’ll get to be around that high when I am an old lady. I am 5’3.” When I tried out for track last fall, I was a junior. Actually, it was a little better than all right. I was on first string; a high jumper. But, I go to a po-dunk little school. It isn’t like Gloucester High, or anything. I mean the girls at Gloucester are like Amazons. Hey, me and my girlfriends are just fine. I do Track next fall. My boyfriend, he was on the football team and I guess he will be this year, too. I was kinda hoping he’d cut that and do basket ball. I mean, he is 6’2” and can sky. He doesn’t really have a problem getting the ball in the hoop. These days, though, there is a lot more than that to get the basket ball team. I mean, I sorta don’t like him pounding his skull around on the field. I don’t really care that he sweats a lot, but I worry. Some of the other girls, the girlfriends of ball players, they think it is cool. Their boyfriends show off and beat their chests to prove they are real men. Two years ago, another friend of mine was playing ball. Now he doesn’t play. He doesn’t play ball because he is too busy with his rehab. Jake, my friend, was in an accident. Well, it wasn’t really an accident. His coach sorta put him in the game when he shouldn’t have gone in. Jake is in a wheel chair and paralyzed from the waist down. He is “lucky.” That same day, another teammate died. Needless to say, that was the last day their coach coached, I hope it was the last. I am little. I am 5’3,” but that is not too little to worry. My Mom worries that my little brother will get hurt. My Dad gave Andy, my little brother’s name is Andy, a basketball and a net, and well they have given him many. He is pretty good. They want Andy to want to play basketball. They love Andy; I guess I do too. I love my boyfriend and don’t want anything to happen to that crazy football player. I know he is all tough and a lot bigger, faster and smarter than most of those chumps on the field, but when every game is over…When every game is over is a load off my mind and he knows it. Gee, I can’t wait till the season is over. He is just in High School and has to even spend most of his summer vacation practicing ball. Next weekend, I was hoping to go away, his coach says, “Nope!” His coach told us this. So; the week after, maybe, if my Aunt and Uncle can get time off. Football is such a rough sport. I hate American football. European football is so much more civil.
7/3/13 Daily Prompt: Being Little is a bummer