Oh my ball machine...what a joy it is. I no longer enjoy it for it's intended use...watching the balls jump out sporadically. Nope. Instead, I find myself drawn to the air that forces the balls out of the machine. I love to feel it whip through my hair. It's invigorating. I feel as though I'm out on the beach (I talk about the beach A LOT although I've never been). At least, that's what I envision the beach feeling like. I yell to Mommy, "Watch Mommy!" and laugh and laugh as the air collides into my face. If ever you're over, I'll let you try. I'm convinced you'll go out and buy one of your own. You'll never be the same.
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