Call this a preemptive strike.
Yesterday's 4th of July celebration got a little out of control. And I'm not going to lie. I was right in the middle of it.
Now, I know what you're thinking. Too much beer? Nope. Southern Comfort and bottle rockets? Nah.
It was a 35-year-old hula hoop and an iPad that caused all of the trouble. I was stone cold sober.
You see, my mom saved our hula hoops. Circa 1978. And my nieces frequently play with them when they visit grandma. My sister and I each had one, identical of course to avoid arguments. They are white, with a red and blue stripe. Each sports a piece of black electrical tape, which I assume was expertly applied by my dad when, perhaps, they started to come apart once upon a time. They also feature rocks/ballast/marbles inside the tube so they make a noise when they whip around your middle.
Because it was such a beautiful day, we all ended up outside before our cookout. Shooting hoops, riding bikes, and visiting in lawn chairs. It wasn't long before the girls got the hula hoops out and we started calling out challenges.
"Can you do it around your neck?"
"Can you move it from your neck to your body?"
"On an arm!"
"Try your knees!"
They obliged. At one point, the youngest was pedaling a long-ago-outgrown tricycle while spinning the hula hoop on her neck. It was hilarious.
And then it happened.
I decided to see if I could still hula hoop.
The good news? I can.
The bad news? My sister's iPad somehow managed to capture it all. And, yes, I look just like an old woman trying to hula hoop. The soundtrack is her laughing her head off, barely able to breathe.
I'm hoping that should you happen to come across my sister anytime soon, you'll politely decline when she offers to show you the video.
Learn more here: http://www.hulahooping.com/index.html
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