Trampoline talk

When I zipped myself  into the safety-net of the trampoline, my body memories catapulted me 37 years into my past:

  • visiting a friend in Toronto;
  • pregnant with the 2nd;
  • exhausted by the 1st son’s frenetic attempts to leap tall buildings at a single bound.  (Did he emerge from my womb, or a telephone booth?);
  • sitting on bleachers that surrounded the sand-filled arena of parent-kid heaven: every imaginable climbing devise, swings, tunnels – and no way to escape, because we were all surrounded by a gigantic net.

Releasing the burden of vigilance, I was able to have a real conversation with my friend.

Living adjacent to the trampoline at LAEV, I’ve noticed that it seems to be a conversation magnet.  Now, sitting on it, entertained by the staggering toddler who bounced, rolled and fell safely against the net, I could, again, release the burden of vigilance and enjoy an adult conversation with the child’s mom.

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