Swingers

After work today, Brock and I headed a half-hour south to Mona, where there's a sickety sick rope swing!

We got off to a shaky start, as Brock did the wimpiest Tarzan call of all time.

It kind of sounded like a dying tropical bird.

He overcame this embarrassment, however.

It being my first time a-rope swingin', I started out on the baby ledge. Don't worry, I was 42 inches tall so they let me ride it without my mommy and daddy.

Because we were all alone at Burraston Ponds, Brock decided to do a legit Tarzan swing. Disney Tarzan wears a loincloth, but do you think a legit Tarzan would have even bothered? As if gorillas have any sense of propriety.

We did encounter one problem afterward, however.

Finally, I mustered up the courage to get on the Big Girl Ledge. I was a-feared.

You know how at cliff jumps/rope swings/other activities requiring actual and/or a semblance testicles there's always that ditzy annoying girl who dithers on the ledge while everyone else below thinks "Come on!!!"?

I was her for a couple minutes. But I got over it.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a Thursday evening :)