Jumping for joy
I have always been fairly against trampolines. The injuries, the liability, the thought of a
massive fifteen-foot circular monstrosity clogging up the backyard; it was all
just too much to handle. There was no
way one of those things were ever coming to my house.
Originally written 7/13/14
But then I realized the containment capability of a
trampoline. Now that they are required
to have safety nets that extend way beyond any reasonable height a person could
actually jump, they look a lot less like a trampoline and a lot more like a
play pen suitable for grown children.
Our kids begged for one and during the whining I had a
vision of myself sitting in a lawn chair relaxing while they jumped happily for
hours on the trampoline and not on my couch, beds, or off the walls. I caved under a dream sequence that involved
my actually finishing a book and a cup of hot coffee, and the monstrosity
arrived shortly after.
Anyone who has set up a trampoline knows what is coming
next. If you haven’t had the pleasure of
doing so, let me give a couple of pointers:
-Read the directions in their entirety, cover to cover,
before you start.
-If you happened to have purchased the same brand that we
did, reading the directions will do no good.
-Keep your children out of hearing range because the
profanity of an angry sailor will unavoidably ensue.
-A set of matches will be handy when it is finally assembled
so that you can set fire to the blood-pressure rising directions which failed
to mention one very important step.
I understand that a lot of things are not manufactured in an
English speaking country, and I accept that so much can be lost in translation,
but when a crucial set of directions fails to mention the correct location to
start attaching all 96 springs that encircle the trampoline, I start to get a
little upset. And then if you don’t
realize that you have incorrectly assembled 96 springs as well as the rest of
the joyous toy until you have done all of that and tied together 192 straps, I
begin sounding a bit like that sailor myself.
We started too late in the day, and then after putting the
entire thing together and then having to take it all apart, we had to shift it
twelve slots to the left and re-build the item of desire in the dark so that we
could finally say “yes” when the children constantly asked if it was done yet.
And then, they jumped.
And jumped. And I sit in the comfort of my chair and watch them play cheerfully
and I do quiet things, like read a book or drink some tea or write an online
review for a wonderful trampoline with the worst set of instructions I have yet
to find in my non-sea faring life.
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