I was going to write a post about way back when I was pregnant with my daughter because I really should write that awesome/awful time down somewhere so I don't forget it. In fact, I had trouble falling asleep last night thinking to myself "I should post about this and it should be worded this way" and then going through the entire progression of the important points I want to put down at least 3 times and got caught going over a few parts several more times than that. (And this right here is why I shouldn't write stuff in the middle of the night because I "think" too much and things just get weird.)
Anyway, I'm not going to write about that (right now anyway) because I want to say I am awesome and have more running stamina than my close to 9 year old brother even though I sit on my butt most of the day (especially at work). I'm not really sure though if I should look as it as awesome that I can play tag longer than my little brother or really sad that I can actually play tag longer than my little brother. I swear at that age, I could've run around for at least an hour playing tag. By the way, I totally started the game of tag. I took him and my daughter to the playground today and they were both very excited. I was feeling a little self-conscious about just sitting on the swings and watching them walk around (the small group of LARPers or old weapon enthusiasts or what ever they were that just got done and were hanging around by their vehicles chatting didn't help). So I went up to my daughter, tapped her on the shoulder, and said, "You're it!" Except she's 2.5 and doesn't really know anything about tag yet, so she just looked at me like I was crazy. So then I quietly walked up behind my brother, poked him in the shoulder, said "You're it!", and took off running. So we run around a bit dodging trees, me in the lead, him trying to tag me, and Ryleigh trying her hardest to keep up with us. As I'm going around another tree, I look back to see how close my brother is to catching me, and I see him laying on the hill behind the tree, clutching his side, and saying he can't run anymore. At this point, I'm mostly out of breath, but I could still run a little more. So I automatically declared that I won tag. And he didn't care because he couldn't run anymore anyway.
I haven't run that much in YEARS, so I had a little trouble walking back home. I wanted so badly to take a nap right on the sidewalk. But honestly, I feel great now. I want to go back out and play some more tag. Anyone want to go with me? Because my brother won't. He's a sore loser and wants to play his video games...and that's just sad. He's not quite even 9, he should be running around outside. I'll admit I like some video games and computer games myself, but I know when I was his age, I spent more time on my bike and at the playground and playing with the neighbor girl that I was friends with (I was a strange kid though and probably scared that poor girl so many times while I still lived there...like the time I convinced her I was a witch and could make her bike tip over [with her riding it] without even touching it...I'd guess it was more likely she was tipping over because she was fairly new to riding and I was making her nervous, but my little kid mind was sure I was doing it). I wonder what that girl is up to now. I haven't seen her since I stopped visiting my awful father (that would be at least another whole post there if I actually felt like writing about that) when I was about 13, and I didn't see her much before that after mom moved us away from there. I kind of miss having IRL friends that live in the same neighborhood as me.