My final Grasshopper story involves fancy footwork. In our backyard stands a huge tree that has held several swings over the years. The favorite was wide enough to seat two. The kids discovered that they could drape themselves facedown over the seat and spin, twisting the swing tighter and tighter to create a nauseating thrill ride.
Hours of twirling toward hurling kept my life peaceful. If you are a mother you understand the value of childish, mindless activities that don't trigger ADHD or generally kill brain cells.
Grasshopper was tall enough that he could twist so tight and twirl so long we all began to watch his performances with awe. "Surely, this will be his last trip." "I can't believe he hasn't tossed his cookies." Among the comments from onlookers.
Then he added special footwork to his repertoire. To enhance the ultimate thrill, he rode it out to the end, using his feet to keep momentum and control. That day Tree Riverdance was born. If I want a laugh from my son, all I have to do is say, "Riverdance."
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