There was a time, back in the day, that Stella and I would walk to the park in our old neighborhood and I would spend the entire time pushing her on the swing. We are talking 45 minutes straight. I even figured out a way to incorporate an abdominal muscle workout timed to the rhythm of each push.

Enter Porter. He won’t be caught dead on a swing – and by the sound he makes each time I try to put him on one, you’d think I was trying to inflict Death by Swing. No, Porter is a slider – not to be confused with a miniature hamburger. Although sometimes I wonder….oh, nevermind.

One of the first orders of business once we moved in at 111 was to put that overgrown apple tree to use and install a couple of swings – knowing that at least there would be three of us who would use them.

So guess who went and grabbed her camera when just one short year later he not only put his padded little butt on those wood planks, but let his sister show him how to do it right proper – which naturally included the spin-till-your-brains-ooze-out-of-your-ears trick she is so proud of.