Today was a momentous occasion: I hooped with my ten year-old daughter's hula hoop.
For those of you who aren't hoopers, you may say, "Big Whoop!". But, trust me. It IS a big friggin' whoop. I started out hula hooping over two years ago with a ginormous, heavy-as-hell hoop that was almost as tall as I was. When I first began, I couldn't keep that thing rotating around my larger-than-average girth to save my life. However, after swaying, shimmying, swearing, circling, and slamming for two long years, I am now able to hoop for an hour with a teeny, tiny, light-as-a-feather dance hoop that is suitable for a petite elementary schooler.
I LOVE LOVE LOVE it!!! The lighter hoop makes it easier to do crazy tricks like over-the-head tosses, around-the-body spins, and fun finger-hooping. (Yes, finger hooping.) I can't wait to practice it again tomorrow, as I know it will only get easier (as everything does when we just keep at it.)
I am eternally grateful to my darling daughter for lending me her sparkly dance hoop, and if she wants to get it back, she'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hoopy hands.
