Here are two silly photos that I had some friends take of me while visiting  my parents this summer.  We have had that trampoline since before I was born and I believe now that my youngest sister is off to college, my parents plan to sell or give away my beloved trampoline.   My sisters and I protested, but our begging was in opposition to the fact that we really didn’t jump that often and two of the three of us live out of the state/country and the third is now in college out of state.   I think my parents would prefer to have their lawn back to make room for the homemade version of bag toss and ladder golf my dad created.  

I remember doing flips and crazy style jumps on this baby, that is, until my last flip ever ended with me in the patch of tomato plants (don’t worry, I was shaken, but not injured – though I never did a flip again). 

My high school boyfriend fell through the trampoline once – the old top ripped in two places, perfect for his legs to go through and hurt in just the wrong place.  His high pitched, startled groans were muffled by the sound of my laughter as I ran in to get my mom – we got a new top for the trampoline the next week and my boyfriend recovered to jump again. 

In junior high the trampoline was the reason for my first and only grounding – My mom’s rule was always “One at a time!”, and I was grounded for a week when she came home from work to catch me and six friends jumping for the 5th day in a row.

Will it maybe still be around for my visit home next summer?  There’s a slim chance. 

But until I know for sure, these photos will have to suffice as my last memory of the “tram-bomp-o-leen“. 

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