The Death of the Death Trap.

Growing up in my neighbourhood,  there were a few things you could have which in my mind, would automatically make you rich. One was a double story house. One was a Stay at Home Mum who made afternoon tea every day. One was of course a pool and the last was a trampoline.
I grew up in a single story house with no pool, no trampoline and my mum was a single, working mum so we were latch-key kids who used to fight like banshees until Mum came home and restored the peace.  On reflection and now that I am a grown up,  I can see that I lived in a house full of love and that trumps a trampoline any day.

PLUS I had a pony! Suck on that you rich princesses.

My kids get to grow up in a house full of love PLUS they have a trampoline. Or had a trampoline.

A while ago I wrote a post about the shocking state of that particular death trap that resided in our backyard. You can read all about it here.  We have finally realised that we should count our blessings that no one has been seriously maimed or injured on this trampoline as the years flew by and the weather rusted the springs and the safety net proved anything but.

So on Friday we made the simple decision to dismantle the trampoline and chuck the remnants into the back alley until Council Clean Up day.  That fucker took me all day to assemble and it took Mr Woog approximately 7 minutes to take down.  We gave the kids time for one last jump on it.

You probably cannot tell,  but they are really trying hard to jump.

Jack being the victim of Harry’s nasty double bounce.

Mr Woog wearing his fetching wife beater.

Good times.

Goodbye you hideous eyesore. You will not be missed.

Did you grow up in a two story house? Did you have a Mum who fed you milk and cookies?  Did you have a Beta Machine? Was it totally awesome?