The Pesach potato-sack race

It's just one of those silly games that people play at camp and at company picnics and the like: Stand a group of people in a line, pair them off, have each person of each pair put their "inside" leg in a potato sack (or a pillow case), then have the whole hobbled group race to the finish line.

Okay, I'm an idiot: I limped the last half block home after dancing at that Makor concert last Saturday night, so you would think that I would have had the sense not to go Israeli folk dancing this past Thursday after work. But no! I thought that, if I took it easy, dancing outside the circle with much smaller steps and no hopping, I'd be fine. Famous last words. To make a long story short, I woke up this morning with a lump in my left foot at the surgical site. If it doesn't go away by Tuesday, I'm calling my podiatric surgeon.

So there we were, my hero in his rocker cast (from the sprained ankle) and yours truly back in athletic shoes and occasionally needing assistance from my trusty cane, dashing--or not--off to the nearest kosher supermarket by subway and bus to stock up for Pesach. (Here's the secret of our semi-sane Pesach shopping--we get the goods home by taxi.) I joked with the Punster that, like folks in a potato-sack race, we had two good legs between the two of us.