Monday, July 9, 2012

Go Play Outside

Hello there Blogosphere! Today's discussion: Playgrounds. Why? Because they're awesome and you know you want to go to one right this instant because being a 5 year old with no teeth never lasts long enough. I'm right, don't argue.

Mariecus and I took a little stroll through St. Peter on this fine evening and ended up (ok, intentionally walked to) a playground down the hill. There, in this oasis of memories (see what I did there, that was cool) we did all of the things we did during recess about 15 years ago. Mind blown yet? Well, almost all of the things, except for throwing playground pebbles at each other and attending shotgun recess weddings. That being said, we spun around on the carrousel, tried to touch the tops of the trees on the swings, collected static on the slides, played tic tac toe on the little rolley built in tic tac toe board, attempted the oddly wide set monkey bars, and even sat in the tire swing.

Ok, but here's the real deal. The Tire Swing (capitalized for emphasis and importance). This was my jam in elementary school (at least for a year.  I like to be a versatile playground participant). There I would be the master of the Tire Swing and the ride designer.  Everything from how high to push them, to how fast to spin them-custom order welcome.  But here in St. P, there's a problem. This Tire Swing is yellow.

Go ahead, when was the last time you saw a yellow Tire Swing? A hard, plastic, yellow Tire Swing.  It's kind of like sitting in one of those Fisher Price Flintstone cars when you're 15.  So instead of looking like this kid:

Cool, debonaire, getting all the dates.

You look like this kid:
Not quite comfortable but still trying to play it cool

and that turns into:

Just less appealing. 

And what I'm trying to say here is not that I'm got bigger from when I was 7, (which is only partially true. I'm still pretty short) but that there's something far more comfortable at any age about a real Tire Swing instead of the color coded alternative. Needless to say I was not twirling in memory cyclones of Tire Swing revelries.  I had to stick with the regular swings. 

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