Finje returned from kindergarten in a state of uncharacteristic excitement today. The reason for which, apparently being the inclusion of sport into the morning's fun filled curriculum. "
We made sport mama!" she announced grinning like a loon. The verb "sport machen" in German basically covers anything that raises your pulse ten beats above the norm. It's worth noting however, that it differs from the verb "toben", a verb which has no direct translation to English but more or less means general rough and tumble.
Fascinated to know exactly what sport for four year olds entails I quizzed my daughter with a fervor of which Perry Mason would have been proud.
It's challenging at the best of times to extricate any enlightenment from Finje regarding her morning activities in kindergarten but today she was positively animated as the words tumbled over one another.
Deciding actions speak louder than words and throwing herself onto the floor with impressive abandon she began to fling various parts of her small but surprisingly flexible body around the kitchen floor. There seemed to be balancing techniques involved, some muscle strengthening exercises and some other stuff of which I was clueless as to it's relevance to sport of any kind.
The girl who normally has the concentration span of a goldfish was channeling her inner Jane Fonda and was fully absorbed in the task at hand. As a fascinated onlooker, to say I was enjoying the show would be to put it mildly.
Then things took a turn for the worse."Come on mama, do some Hampelmanns with me"
I had no clue what a Hampelmann was but I was pretty darn sure I didn't want to do one. It turned out to be the German equivalent of a jumping jack. I knew those. Last done with intent in primary chool and once involuntarily in a shower cubicle in Thailand but that was more due to the presence of a abnormally large cockroach. Still counts in my book.
Not to be outdone by a mere child, I sprang up with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. On my second or third Hampelmann there was a small accident. Let's just say, for me it was a Tena Pad moment.
You see, these kids, first they knacker your pelvic floor muscle so you can't effect even a simple Hampelmann without wetting yourself and then they complain that you've disappeared off for a toilet break.
I'm scared to sneeze now.
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