I’m 60, but I don’t know it…
When I was 8 or 9 years old, I got my first Pogo Stick. I was living in New Hampshire at the time, and I don’t remember if it was a birthday or Christmas gift, but I do remember that that thing with the handles and pedal thing and spring got my heart pounding with anticipation. I remember keeping it in our garage and practicing on that thing in the garage and in my driveway until I could manage a spring or two. Then 10. Then 20.
Believe me, it took time, because body weight corresponds to just how hard you can push down on that pedal thing that makes the spring actually spring (scientific, I wasn’t; determined, I was).
Well, 50 or so years later, I still love the heart pounding anticipation and skills of Pogo Sticking. I’ve managed 500 jumps with something left in me. Yesterday, I pulled one of my Pogo Sticks from our garage and had a Mother’s Day treat…
All 9 grandkids wanted to try, too… and my 12-year old granddaughters Taylor and Maddie got the hang of it!
(Guess what they’ll be getting for Christmas?!)
The best part of being 60? NOT KNOWING IT!