Ping Pong Balls and Wordy Chat by Annmarie Miles

During a discussion in the Wordy Chat group, an online gathering of ACW folk, the subject of essay writing in school came up. The conversation moved on to punishment essays, for instance, my P.E. teacher would make us write a four-page essay if we forgot our games kit. 

I loved it. 

Two of my best creations were, ‘How to Peel an Orange’ and ‘A Day in the Life of a Blade of Grass.’ Others in the Wordy Chat group mentioned they had been challenged to write an essay about the inside of a ping pong ball. Next thing I knew, it was decided that I should write the ping pong ball essay for this blog post. I’m not sure how it happened. I must have been distracted by a bee or something. I have no idea how I ended up in this pickle.

However, I’m nothing if not adventurous, so I decided to do some research about ping pong balls. You can’t rush into these things unprepared! Boy, am I glad I did. What I thought was a ping pong ball, is not a ping pong ball.

Confused? I was too. Let me explain…

A ping pong ball to me, is a solid rubber ball. About the size of a golf ball. Usually bright colours, often a mix of colours.

The internet tells me that a ping pong ball is what is used for table tennis. A (usually) white plastic ball which is hollow.

So this post could well have turned into treatise on the value of research, the importance of cross-cultural definitions in writing, or why Irish people call the ball used for table tennis -  a table tennis ball. But to write the story was the challenge, and that’s what I will do.

Can I just say that ‘Wordy Chat’ is great fun. Join the ACWFacebook Group for information about how to join. But pay attention, or you may end up with homework!

 

On the Bounce

Paddy the Ping Pong Ball was so excited about his trip to Uncle Barry and Aunty Betty in England. It wasn’t his first visit, but he couldn’t remember that as he was a bouncing baby ball when his parents took him the first time. He lived a stone’s throw from Dublin port and would get the boat from there. He didn’t mind the swell of the sea. He ate and drank ups and downs. Uncle Barry collected him from Holyhead in his Bobbin’ Reliant and they happily made their way down the bumpy road to 4 Ricochet Cottages in Pepton.

Aunty Betty was at the door waiting for them, jigging about with great excitement. “Jack,” she shouted up the stairs, “your cousin Paddy has arrived.” 

Jack took the stairs two at a time, hit the bannister, then the wall, landing back at the top of the stairs. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said, trying it again a little slower.

“Paddy! Look at you,” said Aunty Betty. “You’re just as I remember. But you’re not a boy anymore, is that a bit of stubble I can see?”

“No,” said Paddy, “I fell on a cheese grater.”

Before anyone could say more on the subject, Jack arrived at the door to greet his cousin. After a few failed efforts at a chest bump, Aunty Betty insisted they come and have some food.

“I wanted to take Paddy to Bungee Burger," said Jack. "My friends all want to meet him.”

“Go on then,” said Betty, “but I want you back before dark. I don’t care how illuminous you are.”

Jack and Paddy bounded up the street, and through the revolving doors of Bungee Burger.

“There they are,” said Jack, heading for a table. Jack’s friends were all around nice guys, but they were different. Paddy realised he was in another sphere altogether.

On the way home, Paddy said, “your friends are cool. Do you mind if I ask, what are they?”

“Would you believe, they are called ping pong balls over here?” said Jack.

“Really? They look different.”

 “Yeah but they’re pretty much the same as us. I bumped into Buck yesterday, he’s the one with the broken glasses.”

“Oh yeah, he was nice. What happened his glasses?“ asked Paddy

“Like I said, I bumped into him yesterday. Anyway, I don’t even notice the difference anymore.”

“And they’re really called ping pong balls here?”

“Yeah, strange, isn’t it?

“I just can’t get my head around it,” said Paddy.

Annmarie Miles is from Dublin, Ireland.
She lives with her husband Richard who is a pastor in the Eastern Valley of Gwent, in South Wales. She writes short stories, magazine articles, devotional pieces for Christian radio, and blogs about her faith at www.auntyamo.com Her first collection of short stories published in 2013, is called 'The Long & The Short of it'. Her second collection, 'A Sense of the Sea and other stories,' was published in 2018 and in December 2019 she published her first novel, Gorse Lodge. She is currently editing a non-fiction book about being an overweight Christian called, 'Have mercy on me O Lord, a slimmer.'