Over the past few weeks in the evenings, the little brown eyed cuties and myself have been playing in the yard with a beach ball. I knew it wasn't the greatest choice for the older children but it was great for the little ones. It was light and didn't hurt if you got hit which is important for the little ones. My one rule was hands only as I knew the children here are avid soccer players and know how to kick a ball.
Well tonight the little brown eyed cuties were on the veranda begging for the ball... so I let one of the older boys blow the beach ball up.... bad move on my part because I had to then find something for the little ones to do because the older children took over the ball.
So the little ones and I drew chalk on the sidewalk and had a dance party while the older boys played with the beach ball....until it got almost dark and Mamma Angela was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes... so I told the little ones good night and went inside to wash my hair.
By this point it had gotten quiet in the yard and I went out to find a bunch of sad looking guys (not older children but grown men) standing around a deflated beach ball with a big hole in it. My guess is someone used their foot rather than their hand and it popped. I am not sure if they were more sad about the ball or the game ending. When I toold them it was ok... and sule bulungi... one of the guys looked at me and said not sule bulungi.... basically meaning not a good night.
I had to smile because it was a comical picture seeing these men standing around mourning the loss of the ball and I guess sooner or later I knew the beach ball would meet its demise!
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