“I can’t do a cartwheel.” My daughter puts her hands down and kicks her feet up, before slumping to the ground.
“Maybe someone can show you and then you can practice,” I say.
“Can you do cartwheels?” She adds that hopeful lilt at the end.
“Nope, but Daddy can.”
Her eyebrow juts up. She has the quizzical look down cold. “Daddy can do cartwheels?”
“Yup.” Starting at a very young age, her daddy was forced through the gauntlet of sports. Including gymnastics.
“But he is a boy and soo old!”
Happy father’s day.