Pogo Like a Boss

B is 24 weeks pregnant this week.  This means a number of things.  Firstly, and probably most importantly, there are only 16 weeks left, which is a Good Thing.  Secondly, it means that B is now coming out of her energetic period, and is now starting to struggle in the evenings.  Thirdly, it means I was a little surprised when she appeared with a pogo stick on Friday evening.  

I’m no pregnancy expert.  I have experienced two and a half of them from the less involved side, but I am not initiated in all their mysteries.  I am however pretty certain that I could scour any number of leaflets, articles and seven volume book series on pregnancy and in none of them would I find anything which would hint to the possibility that pogoing was a good idea.  In fact it is probable that in one of the more comprehensive lists of dos and don’ts, one of the don’ts, I imagine quite low down the list, would be “Don’t pogo.”  

Of course, we also have two other people in the house, what of them? you ask.  I don’t think S could have reached the  handles, so I was safe there, and whilst N could reach the handles I think the only thing she would do with the stick itself would be to violently swing it round and round, not so much pogoing as endangering the structural integrity of the house, and probably the space-time continuum as well.

In the spirit of this I decided to step in before anyone could do any damage to either themselves, or any part of the universe and I took possession of the death-stick.  My mission was to simply put it somewhere out of reach, where no-one would be tempted to experiment, I could see that N had already fallen under its spell and I had to make sure that didn’t happen to anyone else.

But then a funny thing happened.  I suddenly started to get visions of soaring through the sky.  I could see myself gracefully bounding around the garden, the wind whistling through my hair, just me and the stick pogoing like a boss.  Just like this guy.  No, seriously, if you haven't just clicked on that link, please do so.  I can wait.  Even if it ends up being 3am and you are still watching Youtube videos of people doing stunts on pogo sticks, it is worth it, I could have had this blog up days ago if I hadn't got stuck in a pogo stick video timewarp.  At one point I grew a beard 6 inches long whilst watching a  man do backflips. So please, you owe it to yourself to take the time to have a look, even if only so you can better imagine me as I embark on my own pogo adventure.

As it happened I was already in the garden taking the pogo stick out to the shed where it couldn’t hurt anyone.  What better time?  I thought to myself.  I'll just start off with something basic.  A few hops, maybe try to spin a little.  I could work on the big stuff later. I began to imagine to garden as a sort of pogo obstacle course, but no, it was too early for that.  I mounted my stick and began to bounce.  Except that is not at all what I did.  Unfortunately I had misjudged the exact point of departure and I was actually on the lawn when I began pogoing.  This, it turned out, was a pretty rookie mistake.  As it happened the lawn has a certain amount of give in it.  Enough give in fact that instead of launching me across the garden like a salmon leaping up a waterfall I merely succeeded in hammering myself into the garden.  I think, if you'd tied a string around my forehead and put a tennis ball on it I would have looked uncannily like a swingball set.  

The worst part about the whole thing was probably the fact that it took me a while to work out what was going on and so I just jumped up and down until it sunk in that I was sinking in.  I sheepishly removed myself from the pogo stick, removed the pogo stick from the garden and snuck it into the shed, where I left it.  In my embarrassment I will admit that I didn't mention any of this to B, presuming that the whole thing could be hushed up, I think the fact that it is an election year has rubbed off on me.  

Sadly, it was not to be.  As with all the best political scandals I had overlooked a small but significant piece of evidence, namely the neat round hole I had left in the lawn.  It didn't take long before both B and N had spotted it.  Somehow, in their Sherlockian way, they came to the conclusion that I may have been responsible for it and I was quickly accused of some heinous crime.  I was able to put their minds at rest that I had not been up to anything nefarious, but my vague assertions of innocence were not enough to stop the incessant questions and I soon buckled under the pressure of their piercing gaze.  My confession brought with it gales of laughter and the prospect of many weeks mocking for my latest mishap.  I can't say I'm too concerned though, I'm just off to watch some guy who can pogo over a car and then do a backflip.