Boing

On a hot and muggy Bank Holiday Monday, we head off to Extreme 360, a trampolining centre where children go to bounce and sweat. 

Extremely sporty younger child is planning his tricks and somersaults out loud in the car. 

His extremely non-sporty, older sibling is also visualising her imminent exercise.

“Four,” says a decisive voice from the back seat.

“What’s that? Four what?” I ask.

“Four bounces, that’s what I think I’ll do,” my daughter informs the rest of the family, causing much giggling, a small portion of which is stifled but, in all honesty, mostly stifle-free.

I tell her that as we’ve booked her session at a cost of £10 plus £2 for socks, those four bounces would be somewhat expensive.

“£3 a bounce is a little bit much, sweetheart. Maybe you could do some more?” I suggest.

“Okay. Five, then.”

Her brother, demonstrating the kindness that I need to remember on other occasions when he’s being a nine-year-old teenager, picked her a safe trampoline to use, not too close to the full-speed lunatic bouncers who leap across the entire warehouse like wallabies on amphetamines. (He did this before he joined the wallabies on amphetamines, obviously). 

And, in the end, my girl managed about 15 minutes of gentle wandering, slow-motion ball throwing, and maybe 150 little bounces. Being active with Prader-Willi Syndrome isn’t always about the big achievements. Tiny little springy ones can be victories, too.

Song is The Chemical Brothers - Galaxy Bounce