The Death Trap

This year, Chris and I spent a great deal of time deliberating over the best way to make our children cry on Christmas.

We considered gifting lumps of coal instead of toys, but that’s been done before. Plus, coal is kind of tough to come by.  We pondered saving money by not giving them anything at all, but that was too scrooge-esque and would probably induce more whining than crying. I hate whining.

We got them a puppy, hoping it would bite them and eat their toys, but he turned out to be too cute. Evil plan foiled.

Finally, after careful consideration, we hit upon the perfect tear maker -- a gift that coupled the exhilaration of soaring through the air and the risk of irreparable injury-- a trampoline!

Because why else would anyone ever give their children a trampoline? 

There were those that warned us not to buy one, but the more they recited tort law and orthopedic injury statistics, the more we had to have our very own “death trap.” “Attractive nuisances” just bring out our wild side like that.  We like to live dangerously.

Despite that, I reasoned that I survived childhood with a trampoline in my backyard, and the only broken bone ever sustained by a sibling was the result of clumsiness.  My brother tripped over a curb and broke his arm. Accidents happen, and no parent can remove all the curbs in life.

But it was the argument of one friend that sealed the deal for me. She told me that if I didn’t give my kids a trampoline, a perfectly acceptable tool for them to expend boyish energy and spontaneity, they would jump off our roof, just as she and her brother used to do. So I ask you, what would you do? Risk having your children get their adrenaline fixes from roof-jumping or give them a safe, enclosed environment to jump to their little hearts content? The answer was simple. We were morally obligated as parents to give them a trampoline. 

Even still, I felt like a rebel with a cause on Black Friday, as I elbowed my way through the crowd of customers to snag the trampoline at a deal. Some things are just worth fighting for.

And the cries of pain mixed with giggles made it all worth it on Christmas morning. Okay, it was mostly giggles.

Even the angels were smiling down on their Christmas jumping.

You just can't argue with this kind of photographic proof.

Jacob declared the trampoline to be better than a Wii, but of course, he couldn't be completely sure, because we didn't buy him a Wii.

Benjy said it was almost as much fun as an Imaginext Samurai Castle, but to be fair, in Benjy's world, nothing compares to "ninja castle."

 

Andrew actually stopped aggravating the dog just so he could bounce on it. Now if he could just figure out how to get the dog on the trampoline too...

Christmas 2011: Nailed it.

*Special thanks to friends T & K, who spent three hours of their Christmas Eve helping us put the trampoline together in the dark, and to M, who waited in line outside of Target with me for two hours on Black Friday and helped me fight the masses.