One hot summer day my Dad and I went outside in the front yard to play football. While we were playing I asked my Dad if we could kick field goals instead. He agreed, so we got set and were ready to kick. My Dad knelt down and held the football while I got into my kicking stance. I ran and kicked the football as hard as I could. It went really high into the air. But something happened; I kicked my dad's finger on accident. While the ball was in the air I tried to catch it. I caught the ball but it popped my finger. So my Dad and I went inside the house laughing about our aching fingers.
While we were inside the house we checked out our fingers. My Dad's finger was barely bruised. My finger was swollen purple and jammed. My Dad told me I would have to pull my finger back into place. I knew it was going to be tough to do this. I had to "man up" like my Dad always told me, so I started to pull my finger.My family was near me to give support if I needed it. I was nervous but I kept my focus on my finger. For nearly five minutes, I walked around pulling my finger, which sliding and loosening. I was almost ready to give up then....!!POP!!
It finally popped back into place! Finally the aching and blood-rushing pain was over. After a couple minutes the swelling went down and my jammed finger went back to normal. For being tough my family let me eat some ice cream for dessert.
