Master of the Monkey Bars

by Abby on December 4, 2013

boy on the monkey bars

He comes home with his face glowing, his pants covered with leaves and dirt. (Those “soft pants” he loves attract mulch like a magnet.) “Mom! Guess what? I can do the monkey bars now!”

Unbeknownst to me, my littlest guy had set himself a goal, tried and tried again, fallen, gotten back up, and finally — triumphantly — succeeded, countless recesses later. His pride was palpable.

So we went back to the playground, long after the school day had ended, as the shadows were lengthening and the air was cooling. Just to see. To witness. To applaud. To share this small triumph which was actually not so small at all.

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{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }

Lou Mello December 4, 2013 at 7:54 am

Very cool, I actually remember doing the monkey bars for the first time waaaaaay back in the Pleistocene age. Felt like I was the almighty conqueror.

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Abby December 4, 2013 at 10:53 am

What a neat memory. A real accomplishment, for sure.

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Kathleen Basi December 4, 2013 at 9:46 am

That’s awesome!

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Abby December 4, 2013 at 10:53 am

Thanks, Kate. Happy Advent!

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Angie Mizzell December 8, 2013 at 5:40 am

I love that he tried when you weren’t looking. But so bittersweet. The monkey bars are hard. Dillon still doesn’t do it.

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Marni March 9, 2017 at 8:57 pm

That’s a knowing answer to a diiffcult question

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