act your age

If I wasn't so wise I'd attempt to tell a joke about Troy getting angry after one too many nights of unimpressive dinner food ... but domestic violence is probably a bit of a comedy killer. Plus you know Troy.  So no.

Instead -  The real story.

Noah is double jointed and feather-light. He is always showing off by hanging above the swimming pool by one limb and by doing amazing cirque du soliel freak boy moves and maneuvers.  He thinks he is really quite something.

Also.  He is. Really quite something.

Additional fact: Noah is  7 years old.

I did not let the facts stop me from thinking I was equally awesome and capable.

There is a rope hanging above the pool. It is attached to a metal pole that runs all the way across the width of the pool.  Saturday I climbed (read: clawed) my way out to the rope. I put my feet on it and was holding the metal pole above me.  I was smack talking my boy and acting like a real butt. (Some people claim I have issues with being a good sport.)  I said "Watch this Noah" and I swung a little bit for added finesse, exhibiting my proficient skillz as I jumped down.  Gravity took me  - most of me - all except my left arm which became grossly entangled in the rope, until my massive weight forced its delayed release.

The absolute horror on Troy's face when I came up out of the water made me wonder if my arm was hanging above the pool still attached to the rope. 

Noah was a little bit less impressed than I planned for him to be.  Troy was traumatized.

On the bright side Lydia is very impressed with the colors of my arm.  She said Tuesday, "Mama, where you purple owie?" I flashed it. She squealed with delight  "OH it not purple! It brown and yellow now!"  

So.  There.
A happy ending. 
Someone was impressed.