It’s All in the Flick of Your Wrist

Field Day with my fifth grade class included moments of laughter and fun as students displayed their athletic prowess (or lack of it.)  For example, when competing in the softball throw to see who could throw the ball the farthest, several boys and girls threw very long distances.  Others unfortunately released the ball too late and threw it high in the air where it became lodged in the branches of a pine tree.  Some other students  threw the ball upwards but slightly to the right sending it sailing over the top of the chain link fence that separated the school property from the neighbor’s yard.  As luck would have it, Arlo, the smallest boy in the class, climbed trees faster than most squirrels and retrieved the softballs quickly.  Clinton who I was confident would jump hurdles someday, willingly jumped the fence and got the other balls, and in no time we were throwing again.  I practically lost my voice cheering for students.  In between, “You can do it!” and “You’re awesome!” I gave some advice for ways students could improve their accuracy.

As we neared the end of the day, we walked to the Frisbee Toss.  The last person to throw was sweet little Roxy who was a perfectionist and a very good student.  I watched her as I stood at the other end of the field and waited to catch the Frisbee.  As Roxy stepped forward to attempt her toss, she yelled out, “I don’t know how to throw it!”

While motioning to her with my hand, I yelled back, “It’s all in the flick of your wrist!”

“Whaaaaaaaaat?” Roxy called back.

“FLICK YOUR WRIST,” I repeated.

Roxy looked befuddled.  She stood for a moment, and then, because she was obedient and an overachiever, she pushed up the sleeve on her throwing arm and licked her wrist three times.  Next she lobbed the Frisbee as far as she could and came running down the field to join me and the rest of the class.

We all laughed together as I explained that I had said “flick your wrist” not “lick your wrist.”  She rolled her eyes at the realization that she had licked when she should have flicked.  To this day I cannot see a Frisbee without thinking of Roxy.

No moral here, just a funny story. 🙂

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