Cartwheels are fun

Orlando recently learned how to do cartwheels. Leeloo did one in our kitchen and Orlando watched her once and has been whirling around every since. We were at the park last night with his little neighbor-friend Sophie and her mom, J. Sophie started doing somersaults and O busted out with the cartwheels. Sophie wanted to give it a try and kept doing these amazing one-armed somersault-wheely things. Watching the kids pretzeling about inspired me to throw aside bodily caution and parental decorum and throw myself into a cartwheel. I couldn’t help myself. It was fun, and it felt good. Then the kids were getting themselves into all these yoga positions and those looked fun, too, and that is how I found myself in downward-facing dog on a weedy slope at the local park asking myself why I don’t use this body I have. Of course, this quickly transmogrified into the very non-kidlike admonition that “I will do yoga everyday from now on.”

So now that it’s the morning after and reason is restored and I am back on my own two feet, I revise this to “I will do cartwheels whenever the urge becomes unbearable, and yoga poses when my body is so moved.” Just like a kid.

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