"MOOOOOOOOOOMMMM! HELP ME!"
I run over to where the kids were climbing a tree. This tree is barely bigger than a bush with attitude, Nobody gets higher than about 3 feet....
Until Connor.
He was looking OVER the roof to wave to the kids in the backyard. He was perched on a spindly little twig of a branch that seemed too small to support him.
"Mom! I can't reach the branch to get down!"
so I climbed up as high as I could without breaking me or the tree....grabbed his feet and pulled him down (he held on to the branches and walked hand over hand while I supported his feet) Then I passed him down to another mom....She grabbed his feet as I lowered him by his arms.
Got perspective on how high this kid was?
We all sit down and start talking.......
Then:
"HEY MOM!!! Look at me! I'm higher than before!"
Sure enough, he is back up the tree.
So it brings me back to my childhood. I love to climb trees (still do to this day) but I never understood why my parents got so bent out of shape when I walked the ridgepole of the swings at school or when I backflipped off the monkey bars or when I tried to get to the top of a tree.....
now I get it.
"