Stunt Man

We don’t have cable, so we search Netflix for interesting things to watch. Jim has been jumping head first into the nether regions of Netflix lately, coming up with titles like Nitro Circus or Red Bull Rampage or The Bones Brigade. You get the picture, extreme. I took Jim-Jim to the park recently and found that life imitates art.

In addition to riding his scooter on every ledge he could locate (that thankfully weren’t more than a foot or two off the ground), the boy used the hill at the entrance of the park as his personal launch pad. He would start at the top and soar down the hill that was about the length of a football field. That boy could seriously get moving!

I was waiting at the top of the hill after Jim-Jim’s last run so we could head home when he said, “Mommy, let’s do it one more time and YOU do it with me, ‘cuz I want to show you something.” He wanted to show me the sign near the bottom of the hill that says pick up your dog’s poop, he’s not the hard to figure out. I decided to humor him, so I placed my foot behind his foot and grabbed onto the handles by placing my hands over his with my cross-body purse resting against my hip. We were off! You think a 50 pound boy can get moving? Add the weight of a full grown adult! We were flying! As we approached the sign (much more quickly than I had predicted), we were at our peak speed when the boy yelled, “STOP!” I instantly slammed my foot onto the ground to stop us, but there was not even a millisecond that I was standing upright. Luckily I had thought enough to steer us towards the grass because we had gained so much speed that we were both sliding across the grass on our tummies the instant my foot hit the ground! It was a race to see which was faster, the top of my body that was scrapping across the grass or my friction-free legs that were trying their best to pass my body. If only they weren’t attached by a pesky torso, they would certainly win!

You would think the moral of this story would be that you should be careful little eyes what you see. Extremes sports in, extreme sport out. But, nah, it’s this. I laugh when I see people fall. It’s a big point of contention in my marriage because the hubster strongly believes I should check on someone when they fall instead of cracking up. And I would be happy to, if I weren’t laughing hysterically. As Jim-Jim and I slid across the grass, it was as if we were going in slow motion. The moment I realized we’d fallen, I turned my head to see what was happening to him. He turned his head at the exact moment, and our eyes met. We both cracked up! We must have looked like two fools sliding across the grass, laughing uncontrollably! The point is this. Jim can’t be mad if I laugh when people fall, because I laugh when I fall. Treat others how you want to be treated and all. Oh yeh, the other point. There comes a point in a 32-year-old mom’s life whe she maybe shouldn’t participate in extreme sports. I was pretty sore for days!