She’s asked us to watch every gymnastics movie found on Netflix.
She’s asked us if she should start saving up money for her trip to the next Olympics.
She’s asked us to find out if there’s a gymnastics store in Kuwait so we can get more gymnastics outfits.
She’s asked us to “CLEAR THE FLOOR” because “I AM DOING MY ROUTINE!”
She’s asked us to take slow motion videos of her tricks.
She’s asked us to extend her bedtime by FIVE MORE CARTWHEELS.
She’s asked us if her teacher had told us about the cartwheels she did during circle time. (YES, GOT THAT NOTIFICATION.)
She’s asked us if she will also be training on the uneven bars this weekend.
She’s asked us to PLEASE STOP DISTURBING HER, SHE CANNOT HELP CLEAN UP BECAUSE SHE IS BUSY DOING GYMNASTICS!
I’ve told her that you can’t do cartwheels in the mall.
I’ve told her that backflips are something you do when you’re bigger.
I’ve told her not to attempt handstands on concrete.
I’ve told her that gymnastics is best performed in an air-conditioned space, as opposed to 40 degree weather outdoors.
I’ve told her to PLEASE STOP AND DRINK SOME WATER BEFORE YOU PASS OUT.
I’ve told her YOU HAVE ONE MORE TRICK until bedtime. I SAID ONE MORE! NORY!!!! That was the last one!!! ELEANOR DOUGLAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’ve told her you can’t do a running-double-round-off-with-a-spin into Juliet’s Magnatile castle.
I’ve told her that bathing suits and gymnastics suits are basically the same thing and so, because you have a billion bathing suits, you ALREADY HAVE a billion gymnastics suits.
I’ve told her it’s FIVE MORE SLEEPS until your first lesson. Now it is FOUR MORE SLEEPS. Now it is THREE MORE. Now TWO. Tomorrow….it’s TOMORROW!
Today is THE DAY. The day of her very first gymnastics lesson. To be fair, I used the word “obsession” in this post title, but if you’re not the one saying all of the aforementioned things in frustration, I suppose “PASSION” is a more appropriate word.
Girl’s got PASSION.