I have made some pretty careless mistakes in my lifetime, from smashing TVs to breaking windows to forgetting almost anything possible. But nothing compares to this one horrible decision that I once made and will never forget. It’s difficult to comprehend what was going on inside my eight-year-old mind when I did this, but obviously, there wasn't much going on in there. 

It was the last day of our family vacation at the Chula Vista Resort in the Wisconsin Dells. We had a full list of things planned for the last day of the trip, but thanks to me, the day was shortened quite a bit. My older cousin Annabella and my sister Marina were throwing a frisbee outside while we waited for our parents to get ready, but as the older sisters are, they wouldn't throw me the frisbee. It was a classic game of monkey in the middle, but I was always the monkey. At eight years old, I saw that they seemed to be enjoying my frustration of not being able to touch the frisbee, and I realized that if I wanted to get it I would have to try a different strategy. So that is exactly what I did.

I glanced around looking for a solution to this problem, and this is the point where I must've lost all intelligence. I thought to myself as I looked around, the only way to get this frisbee would be by knocking it out of the air. My plan was simple: I would find an item to throw at the frisbee, it would hit the frisbee, and both things would fall right into my hands. I ended up not having to travel far to find this item because the parking lot was filled with them. Rocks. The rock was like a baseball, sphere shaped and heavy enough to knock down a frisbee. It was perfect. 

Walking back over to the girls I knew that I had to time the throw just right. The frisbee would have to be in the middle of the girls so that when I knocked it down there would be no chance that they could beat me to it. Then the moment was there, the frisbee was spinning perfectly in the air and I knew it was my time to strike. All it took was one throw. I wound up and threw the rock straight up into the path with the frisbee. My eyes were glued to the rock as it soared just right, missing the frisbee. Surprisingly, the rock didn't stop there. It continued to soar through the air until we all heard a roaring “crack!” The rock had gone straight through the back of a minivan and the alarm was now blaring for the whole town to hear. 

“Samuel!” I hear my sister yell. That’s when I knew I was done. My sister rarely uses my full name, but when she does I know I’ve done something wrong. I see my cousin running inside to grab our parents and I know that they are not going to be too pleased with me. My parents, followed by some upset-looking people, walk out of the building on their way toward the crime scene. Just to add to the problem, the car that I hit was filled to the max by a family who did not speak an ounce of English. It was total confusion with lots of angry people, as I sat on the curb waiting for my punishment. 

By the time it was all said and done, I was packed into our car for a very quiet drive home. The whole day was lost thanks to me and we were probably never going back. However, after all this, I think I learned a very valuable lesson. When trying to get a frisbee out of the air in a parking lot, do not use a rock.