Just 'Wing It

My kid loves to 'wing (also known as SWING to those of us who have understanding of the English language and full control to use an "S" whenever we feel the need). Every time we pass the park shouts of, " 'WING! 'WING! 'WING!" fill the car. Each time we get in the car at the back of the house, she points to the neighbor's swing set and says, " 'WING! Uh-huh!" while nodding her little mullet head emphatically. We can't pass a swing or anything resembling a swing without some chatter.

A couple of weeks ago we were excited to stop at a garage sale that had a Parents-Choice-Award-Winning-Flip-Up-Storage-Seats-Cup-Holders-Extra-Long-Handle Radio Flyer red wagon (No compass in the stock or thing that tells time, though) for $2 (which is WAY BETTER than the $100 they charge you in the store). We were excited for the deal. Ella was excited because she thought we were at the people's house to 'wing on their 'wing set in their yard.


Did I mention my daughter likes to swing?

Anyway, I've been asking Todd since the beginning of time (or, at the very least, since start of summer) to get Ella a swing. I guess guilt finally gave in because Ella now has a swing.

You know those great castle-like sets that rise from the ground like another city and have all those cool doorways and crosswalks? You know, the ones that cost a couple of thousand dollars and proves just how much a parent loves their child? The ones where you could host your child's preschool while simultaneously having a dinner party on it and never cross paths with a child?

Yeah, we didn't get one of those.
Instead, we got one of these:

The kind that hangs from a tree.

By itself.

Where you can't have friends over to share.

Nevermind about dinner parties.

But, whatever.

Don't get me wrong. This kind of swing is just fine to meet our little addict's daily need for swinging when we can't squeeze out a park play alllllllllllll the way down to the park 3 minutes from our house.

SIDEBAR: There are some days with a toddler when 3 minutes away is just too much to handle. (I feel the collective nods of sympathetic mothers everywhere. Word.)

So, Todd braves the mosquitoes and performs some minor acrobatics to get the swing hung in the perfect tree (which may be ours or may be our neighbor's. We're not quite sure. We're just waiting to see how that one plays out...).

FINALLY! The moment I've been awaiting! We take Ella out, place her in the NEW 'WING and she is delighted! You couldn't have found a happier child. While we push and discuss why we hadn't done this sooner *ahem* we watch Ella's wispy mullet hair fly in the air and her smile reach from ear to ear. Then, she slowly puts her chubby little wristless arm up, points to the neighbor's swing set and says,

"SLIDE! Uh-huh! Yeah!"