My daughter and I had been doing maths when we both decided it was time for a break. There was a slight difference of opinion in what that should look like, but I convinced her that we should go for a walk.
At least that was the initial plan.
She then grabbed a skateboard, snack and football, before we were finally able to get out the door.
To then get about 100m down the road, when she realised that she can’t really skate…
So I ended up powering the process by dragging her to the park. There may have been some Mutley-esque mutterings about the exercise we (she) was supposed to be doing.
However, we had a great time. Lunch and literal skipping though daffodils, followed by a bit of football. To spice things up, we had to add an activity, cartwheel, handstand or something, before kicking the ball. Which was (again literally) my downfall, when I sprained my ankle when failing to jump over the ball.
I thought I handled it very calmly, until my daughter told me to stop swearing!
I had visions of needing to call the park service for some assistance, but I managed to hobble to the closest path, from whence my daughter then alternated between pushing and dragging me home on the skateboard.
As she observed, lucky she brought it…
There may also have been some murmurings about the amount of exercise she was having to do to save me…
Tough Mother 