The Laddie is a Tramp

I cannot, in all honesty, say it thrilled me when I heard the kids had gotten a Trampoline.

With a 12-year-old and 3-year-old on that behemoth bouncy bone breaker, I had visions of head wounds and little fingers and toes caught in the webbing, and mid-air collisions that would result in trips to the emergency room.

However, never let it be said that Grammy Rhoni is not one to ‘give it a chance’.

So, on many a morning during our recent trip to almost heaven…I sat with my trusted and constant companion and just watched.

I’m glad I did and hope you can see why.

My laddie is definitely a TRAMP!

The hours of laughter, sweat, and no tears are worth every wrinkle the idea of this thing gave me!
The hours of laughter, sweat, and no tears were worth every wrinkle the idea of this thing gave me!
my turn
I observed big Alex having as much, if not more, fun than the little Alex dude
But he DID get his turn!
running
What heart wouldn’t melt at seeing the end of such a time?
Mine sure did.
What a sight!

So…I guess the lesson here, for all you Grams and Gramps out there…look before you leap; to conclusions that is.

Supervision, common sense, and a love for life is all that’s needed to make this a safe place to be a TRAMP!

🙂

Published by

Rhonda

Hi everyone! Welcome to 50 Shades of Gray Hair. 50 Shades is my blog of life over the hill, where each day is full of delicious opportunities to earn another gray hair. I stopped declaring war on the gray when I began this blog years ago. Instead, I embrace and celebrate them along with whatever life decides to throw my way, with (sarcasm forward) humor and an optimistic eye to the future. I think. I hope? I don't know. At any rate...it's real, it's honest, it's full of 4 letter words, and it's me...on a platter. I sincerely welcome you all to my porch....♥♥Rhonda

10 thoughts on “The Laddie is a Tramp”

  1. Wow, the memories. My dad was a Leasing Dude, and was often driving us-kids around, point to this and that, “That’s my truck” or “That’s my hydroponic nursery” or “That’s my trampoline park.” What he meant was that he’d helped procure and finance the equipment, and we kids just kindof figured the ownership was something less than full, typical, ownership. When he took us to the trampoline park (tramps at earth grade, holes in the ground underneath) we were smitten. But since it was HIS, but not exactly “ours” he bought us a trampoline for the yard. Not as cool as having your bouncing platform at ground level so that magically your up was followed by a DOWN that went subterranean… But trampolines became a part of my childhood in a couple different ways. Today, I have a mini trampoline which I read is an excellent device for burning calories. The problem is that its rubber feet get quickly worn-through by the impact of the down-bounce, and your home floor, or porch floor gets pretty screwed up. Or if you do it in the yard, you end up with a submerged tramp with no subterranean cavity to compensate. Ok so that’s my tramp story, and apologies in advance for the 400 words of wet cement. Enjoyed your bringing trampoline memories back into my grown up day.

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    1. That’s a great story Robin and you can use up as much of my white space as you like. I always LOVE when you stop by. I have never seen the tramps you are talking about that allow for the subterranean down bounce….that sounds so cool. Can only imagine what it felt like to go below ground like that. And your my first friend with Tramp memories…how’s that!

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Nice-n-Easy...but tell it like it is