At the end of a long day, after I’ve slowly worked my way across the Valley, when the kids are in bed and while I’m wolfing down a reheated plate of that evening’s dinner in front of the TV, WonderWife™ and I download the events of the day to each other.
Tonight, she told me this story:
A few days ago, WW™ had been watching Life on the Discovery Channel. In one segment there was a small tree frog. The frog couldn’t jump very far, so in order to compensate for it’s lack of vertical leap, the tree frog tenses up its body so that it grows taut, and hurls itself down the side of a cliff. It bounces to the bottom and then it softens up and goes about its business.
Today at the park, she watched Sprout climb to the top of a slide and hang from the bar that ran across of it, as she’s watched her big brother do countless times. Sprout exerted so much force that her body would stiffen up, reminding WonderWife™ of that frog.
There’s no real point to this story, other than I think it’s funny to envision my daughter looking like a tree frog.