The swing on the playground in primary school was as important to me as Tyrion Lannister to Game of Thrones.
I was the Queen of the swing jump! and I ruled that playground with my sweet moves.
My technique was so good…first I rode the swing higher and faster than any other kid dared and then while in the air, I made a jump for the ground and almost always, I landed on my feet.
It was bad (ass) and I knew It but my playground dominance was hellish on my uniform, my escapades left my uniform torn and dirty which of course led to my mother banning me from the kingdom.
Always the obedient daughter, I stayed away( it was one of the hardest things I ever had to do) a full week the kingdom suffered my absence but then the forces smiled on me one fateful day mummy was late.
I knew it had to be something important that kept her from getting my brother and I early enough but the boredom was killing me. I took a stroll to the playground…just to see what had changed since my exile ( I knew I shouldn’t have gone but I couldn’t help myself) all I could feel was love literally swelling in my heart and the best part of it was the playground was empty! I could do whatever I wanted, soI ran back to my brother to see if mummy was here yet: she wasn’t.
The plan was simple, have a quick run on the swings perform some jumps and head back before the arrival of the Mum( It was foolproof…was’t it?)
I got on that swing seat and felt all the rush of adrenaline coarse through my veins, the movement started with a slow push…I savored every push into the sky and rode higher and higher and higher and with each swing I was on top of the world with no worries nor cares (except what my mum would do if she found out i came here, which she wouldn’t!!) The next thing was to take the leap from the seat while in mid- air and just when I was satisfied, the jump was made and simultaneously a rip was heard.
Remarkably I landed on all fours with little or no scratch ( but the same couldn’t be said for my uniform as that simultaneous rip was eyewitness/evidence to my disobedience) I couldn’t believe it, I had stayed away for 1 week and the 1 day I slip, I was sporting a uniform so torn, a beggar would reject it! so I decided to do what a normal 8 or so year old would do. Create a good cover story to explain the torn uniform, I just had to get back.
As I looked up to head forward, I was stopped in my track not sure if my limbs could move but my mouth seemed to work just fine because they immediately said “Good afternoon mummy”
Happy Birthday Wura