Penn on Gravity
Last weekend, I babysat Penn and Gwyn for a morning. We partook in the typical adventures– riding the hammock, jumping on the BOSU Balance ball and visiting the playground. I also put them to work and had them help me collect all the sticks in the yard for the monthly brush collection. Once the yard was stick-free, Penn and I took an old ball from the garage and played soccer (Hey, I DO do something with balls other than throw them).
My front yard is a significant hill. Most non-SUV cars can’t get in my driveway without bottoming out. Of course, that doesn’t stop Larry who plows in and out anyway! His car has a fancy schmacy system that lets him know if he is about to back into something. The angle of my driveway always puts that system into a frenzy. So Larry’s visits are concluded with frantic (and futile) beeping followed by the awful sound of metal scraping on concrete.
The damage inflicted by my driveway is not necessarily confined to undercarriages. If you are parked in the level garage, you can’t see what’s behind/below you. That’s how one spring evening in 2001, my Isuzu Rodeo’s spare tire put a beautiful, circular imprint in Ryan Schutt’s hood.
Obviously the slope of my front yard poses a problem for parking. It adds challenges to soccer as well. So Penn and I joined forces, played as a team and took on a formidable opponent – gravity. Team Penn would kick the ball uphill, using the front porch as gravity’s goal. Meanwhile, we defended the brand new pile of sticks at the bottom of the yard as our goal.
Through good teamwork (and some suspicious counting on Penn’s part– with each goal we mysteriously gained three to five points), we beat gravity 16-5.
We got exercise and apparently the event was educational as well. At the end of our game, Penn rested his hands on his knees and worked to catch his breath.
“There is one thing I know about gravity,” he said between deep breaths, “It never gives up.”