What? Rigor Mortis Already?!

Rigor Mortis [rig-er mawr-tis, or esp. Brit. , rahy-gawr]

-noun

1- The stiffening of the body after death.

Origin: 1830-40; <Latin: literally, stiffness of death

We got together last night with a friend of mine that I have known since before kindergarten.  It was funny to sit and look at our beautiful families and think that we were, at one point, as small as our four year olds when we met for the first time.  I don’t remember meeting many people in my life, but I remember meeting this friend.

It was my first ever soccer practice.  I leaned heavily on my dads leg as he introduced me to my coach who, after shaking hands with me asked if I knew how to dribble a soccer ball.  I nodded in approval and she asked me to show her how well I could do it.  I picked the ball up and attempted to bounce it- basketball style- on the grass.  As she tried to repress a chuckle she called this boy I had never seen before over to us and asked him to show me how to dribble.  I watched in amazement as he ran down the field kicking the ball with his feet.  Huh?!  I was so confused.  You dribble with your feet?

He brought the ball back to us and the coach asked if we knew each other.  We sized one another up and shook our heads no while kicking the ground.  Our dads seemed to know each other, however, as they talked and laughed back and forth behind us.  My new friend and I stood there enjoying some little-kid-meet-little-kid awkwardness for a minute until the coach called him over to do another demonstration.

So, anyway, last night after a quick FHE we walked to a nearby park with a wagon full of various balls and some ice blocks.  After a few trips down the hill on the blocks of ice- the balls came out.  First it was the mitts and baseballs, followed by the soccer ball.  It was the soccer ball that made me think of rigor mortis.  After that first practice, I picked up dribbling quickly and learned to love the game but… playing with our kids last night made me wonder if I really don’t have one foot in the grave.  It hurt to move.  I used to be so spry!  Not so much anymore.  So, this morning I had to look up the official definition of rigor mortis just to make sure I don’t have it.  I’m not convinced I don’t, but I don’t think I’m dead either so….  I’m going to ignore the possibility that the stiffness may be due to the lack of activity on my part.  That couldn’t be the reason!

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