Summer’s here and The Maker, nearly eleven, has an entire raft of projects underway.
Recently he disappeared for most of an afternoon and came home walking on these fantastic stilts that he made with his grandpa.
Me: Dude! Those are awesome!
TM: Thanks.
Me: How long did it take you to learn to walk on them?
TM: Three or four tries.
Me: How tall are they?
TM: The brace is eighteen inches.
Me: So what do you plan to do on them??
TM: Probably get past the creek to places I haven’t been.
Me: Oh. (thinking for a moment) Where haven’t you been?
TM: Past the creek.
Me: Well, right. Of course. So you can wade across the creek on those things?
TM: Sure.
Me: Can you go up stairs?
TM: Yup.
Me: What can’t you do on your stilts?
TM: Kick a soccer ball. And I can’t do “no hands” but I can do “one hand.” I hold one stilt in my hand and the other in my elbow pit.
Me: Do you think girls will like your new stilts?
TM: (uninterested) Sure.
Naturally I commandeered the new stilts for my own turn. None of the boys believed I would get up on the first try, but they didn’t know I had spent half my growing up years on stilts.
Stilts!
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