Cartwheel

When was the last time I did a cartwheel? If you asked me that question any time before tonight my answer would have been, "Ages ago. I can't remember. Those were days long gone when I did carthweels on freshly cut grass and ballet performances in the grocery aisles."

A person has to have a certain amount of lifegiving abandon and positive carelessness to do a cartwheel. It is not something the overly inhibited or hopelessly depressed are inclined to do, really. And so seeing as yesterday and this morning I found myself in a rather bad way with myself, I marched said self out the door after the kids' bedtime and wondered happily around my neighborhood until I found a suitable spot in full view of several condo complexes and a commonly trafficked street. Pondering my decision, knowing what I was about to do -- in public -- and felt a thrill better than dirty sex or getting a new blog comment or buying fresh books, or great clothes.

I cartwheeled.

Upon landing, m inner thigh muscle pulled slightly, reminding me that I am an adult. I smiled and thanked God for everything, and especially for the beautiful day that saw me do a cartwheel. I marched myself home, satisfied, limping mildly and ready to go back to being a grownup for a little while. A good thing too, because when I could hear my infant daughter screaming for me from the foyer.

Maybe I'll do another cartwheel tomorrow before the kids get up.