Am I really over the Hill?

How was my weekend??
Well, after spending Friday which was a Poya sweating away in the scorching heat trying to recapture past glories of being a good six a side cricketer (in my back yard of course), I was to find out the next morning that forgetting the basics for an old man of 22 is quite painful! I woke up with my body hurting in multiple places & unable to sit down to take a leisurely crap in the morning, all because I was dumb enough not to warm up or warm down,

The cricket was not the only problem, having slaved away from 4pm to midnight on Friday decorating the church for the youth Christmas service the next evening compounded the body aches, that Friday night I found out why I will never marry a qualified interior designer!!

I thought my mom was difficult when it came to decorating! But life always throws things at you to raise your level of belief that anything is possible,
Having a qualified deco specialist in Church was excruciatingly painful, she made me carry a 120Kg log with a buddy (The log of course was stolen at 11pm from some unsuspecting neighbor’s garden), having to carry it over my shoulder whilst worrying about another neighbor taking his Rothviler for a walk for 500 meters was er…. A novel experience,

Saturday came & went, carol service was err… Good,
Sunday… well…. More body pains!
An eventful weekend of trying to play cricket & having my entire body cramping was to be topped off by some little brat playing cricket down my street,
I was walking down the road to my place when suddenly a tennis ball went flying over my head from a garden onto the street; the ball came to a halt.
UNCLE UNCLE!!
UNCLE UNCLE!!

I turned around in a flash to notice that not 1 but 3 little brats had categorized me with the old in society, a ‘’Chaminda’’ so to speak!
I had little time to waste, I had to get the ball back into the brats garden before someone known came along the road & started laughing. For a moment, the body pains disappeared as I launched into action, my sweaty palms grabbed a hold of the tennis ball almost Jonty Rhodes like! With one quick fling the ball went flying into the ‘’garden of the brats’’ & my honor was in tact, for none had heard what the brats had just called me.

Yet, after the body pains at just 22, being called an Uncle……
I kept wondering if I’m really over the Hill?? Hhhmm……..