I fell off the True Story Tuesday train about three months ago, so to make up for it, I'd thought I'd share with you this fun little Polka Dots & Protein Bars trivia.
Growing up, Sis, Brother and I were avid fans of all things NERF. We had rifles, darts, cannons, and my personal favorite, the crossbow. We routinely engaged each other in all out NERF wars and American Gladiator-style blitzes.
It wasn't long until I became a master archer of all arrows foam and yellow. As such, I decided that I should try and hone this enviable craft into a life skill. My opportunity came my final semester of college. I still needed one more PE credit, and my eyes lit up when I discovered that I could take archery. I had lofty dreams of Robin Hood-sized proportions. I believed wholeheartedly that my divine talent on the NERF bow would easily propel me to prodigy status.
Unfortunately, my dreams of grandeur were crushed before they fully had a chance to blossom. To call me a bad archer would be an understatement. Abysmal would be more accurate. I could not shoot a straight arrow to save my life. Over the target, under the target, short of the target... anywhere but where it should have flown. My "professor" encouraged me to switch from being letter graded to pass/fail. I had to eat a whopping amount of pride (and broken dreams), but I made the change.
Despite my best efforts I never really improved. For our final class, we had a mock deer hunt. An avid bow hunter himself, our instructor brought in homemade deer sausage and jerky and each time we hit one of the deer targets we got to go eat some of it (surprisingly good, Bambi). Of course, as expected, I got nowhere close. Taking pity on me, he changed the rules to be whenever you took a shot you could come eat.
I have accepted the fact that I may never be a true bow hunter, but that doesn't mean the NERF crossbow has been put to rest. So if ever you're in my neighborhood, beware of the high-flying yellow arrows.