My Dad put up two tire swings for my nieces in his backyard. One painted pink and the other purple, naturally.
My brother-in-law suggested that I give them a try and that they’ll support my weight.
Now, I’m of the opinion that youth is wasted on the young and if given the chance to “play”, I’ll take it. So, I clambered on the pink one – it seems to be on a sturdier branch – got a couple good swings and fell off. It wasn’t far and I wasn’t hurt, and not even really embarrassed.
I lay on the ground, laughing for a moment, then got back up and climbed back on. This time, I got settled in a little better and had what I hoped was a better grip. My brother-in-law started to push me a few times and then I got to spinning. The rope hurt my hand and I started to lose my balance. Spinning around wildly, I finally managed to get out that I wanted to stop and when I did, I gratefully fell to the ground in a heap.
I lay there for a moment – stunned – then stood up and stumbled around, still dizzy. I didn’t throw up, but it was a near thing for a few minutes.
I shook it off and went about my way.
A little later, my niece commented that the pink tire swing was a lot lower than it used to be.
Thanks.
So, I survived the tire swing but it clearly won. I think I might have done better if the tire had been bigger and the rope a little easier to grip, but I may just be fooling myself.
Clearly, still not a grown-up and in need of adult supervision.