It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time . . .

So yesterday the kids decided to ride their bikes down to the park and play on the playground.

About 2 minutes after they left I was thinking, "You should ride a bike down there and spend time with them."

And so I did.

When I got to the playground the kids were having so much fun, swinging and sliding, I thought, "You should swing and slide, too."

And so I did.

And that's when it happened.

I saw the monkey bars and suddenly a flood of gradeschool memories rushed back to me.

I rememered racing out to recess in order to claim 1 of the 3 monkey bars at Cloverly Elementary. I rememered sitting on top of the bar next to Tammy Strickler and doing synchronized cherry drops. And I remembered spinning around the bar like a pinwheel--one knee hooked over the bar, hands clenched on the bar, falling forward, and using the force of the fall to spin me back to the top.

Those were happy memories. And so I thought, "You should get on that monkey bar and show the kids what you can do."

And so I did.

Yup.

I climbed atop the bar, hooked my left knee over it, grabbed on tightly and said, "I'm the king of the world."

No, I didn't say that. (But I thought it.)

Once atop the bar, I remembered everything, every feeling, about being on the monkey bars as a kid.

And without even thinking, I pushed my 30+ year old body forward and spun around the bar.

Yup.

And you know what? I made it around the bar on my first try!

So of course, I had to see how many times I could spin in a row.

The kids started counting.

It was AWESOME! Hearing the kids count just made me want to spin forever! (BTW--I had like one deep moment there while the kids were counting. In the midst of my insanity I thought, "I have kids here. I'm a mom at a park with a lot of kids. But I used to be a kid on the monkey bars. When did all of this happen?" I know, deep.)

So, back at the monkey-bar-a-thon, the kids are shouting, "Five."

I'm thinking I can keep going, but I also notice that my knee is starting to rub against the bar a little.

At "Seven" it's rubbing a lot.

But I'm so close to 10, I'm not stopping. (The number ten has magic properties in 4th grade, you know.)

At "Eight. Nine." the back of my leg feels like its burning. Like, there's real friction between my fleshy leg and the hot metal bar.

But I think, "I'm not stopping until I hit ten."

And I don't.

As I hear the kids cry (I think it was a mixture of joy and embarrassment), "TEN," I stop and drop off the bar.

I'm jumping up and down, I am so excited.

Actually, I don't. The whole playground isss sssssssspinnnnninnng and I have to seriously grab onto something stationary in order to prevent myself from falling down--which is kind of funny and confusing because I never remember getting dizzy on the bars as a kid. Never.

Anyhow, it wasn't that big a deal really. The playground eventually stopped spinning and the kids and I went back to our swinging and sliding.

Oh, who am I kidding? It was SOOOOOOOO DA#@ EXCITING!

I could hardly wait to tell Dave--or even show him!

Which I did once he got to the park, too.

In all, I think I spun (well I know because I counted everyone of those dang spins and committed them to memory), 16 times.

My favorite part of the day:

Dave saying "I can't believe you can still do that. Doesn't your leg hurt?" And me replying, "It rubs a little, but nothing major," as I pull up my pantleg to check the back of my leg.

Dave's reply, "Dawn, your leg is bleeding."

"Sure, it is, Dave."

I didn't believe him until I got home and Jonah snapped the above photos.

Life is funny.

Or maybe it's me that's funny. LOL!