Last Thursday was Parents' Day at Tommy's gymnastics class, so he got to show off the skills he has been working on all year. And I got to take this adorable picture of him doing a chin-up:
I just love that. I really do. Look at that face. He held his chin-up for 40 seconds, schooling the rest of the class with their pitiful 17's and 21's. That's because after the first time that they practiced this skill in gymnastics, Tommy went home and showed his Daddy a ribbon for his 11 second chin-up hold, and the next day Greg came home with a chin-up bar and declared he was going to install it in Tommy's closet so he could practice. Half an hour later, I went back to Tommy's room, only to find the chin-up bar permanently affixed to his bedroom door, not his closet door, about chest high. Permanently. Bolted in.
When I asked Greg about his long-term plan for this atrocity, he simply replied that he would raise it up when Tommy gets taller, and that we could just put wood putty on the mangled door jamb. What a well thought out plan. I suppose now that Tommy has conquered a 40 second chin-up hold, I should say that it has all been worthwhile. It really is. I love all of the flipping and hanging going on in my house, I really do. I'm even getting good at doing the limbo when I go in there to put away the laundry. Everyone wins.
And now I would like to present you with gratuitous pictures of the boy flipping through the air, blurry-legged, and with his tongue sticking out.
This is Miss Liz, the super-skinny gymnastics teacher. At the end of class, they had a little Olympic medal ceremony, and everyone got a hand full of ribbons. Then we did what all Olympic champions do, we went for a Happy Meal at McDonald's.
(Happy Meal #6 out of 52, in case you were counting. Only 46 more to go!)
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