We've Been Using See-Saws Wrong Our Whole Lives

These two dudes doing unimaginable things on a see-saw are really changing the way I think about see-saws, and also gravity, and my childhood, and pretty much everything I thought I knew about the world. Thanks, Awesomely Flipping See-Saw Bros, for ruining my life with your very cool jumping and flipping and whatnot. Way to remind me what a bland, flightless bird I am.

When my sisters and I were kids, we wouldn't have been caught dead on a see-saw. See-saws were, and always had been, exclusively for the babiest of babies and we, dear sirs and madams, were no goddamn babies. Our recreational habits included only things that involved us catapulting one another ever-closer to certain death; that is to say, our family had a trampoline. Being that our house was The Trampoline House (second in popularity only to The Pool House), we were not only required to host all of our friends and frenemies (that mess starts circa age 6 for girls and lasts until forever), we were obligated to show them up in the Death-Defying Trampoline Antics department. I hope it goes without saying that we delivered in spades. My sisters and I were wildly-bouncing badasses, and I have the permanently crooked tailbone to prove it.

Anyway, we were clearly kidding ourselves to think we were ballsy, is my point. These See-Sawstronauts (yes, I did) probably spit on, like, 40 trampolines as they make their way to – I mean, what is that place? – the see-saw...gym? Circus camp? Probably circus camp. These guys spit on 57 trampolines on their way to circus camp every day. They have no time for trampolines. More like trampolames. They're proving that which I can only wish I had learned back before I was an aged, feeble-boned, frail monster who would likely shatter into a thousand elderly pieces if I even looked at a see-saw: See-saws are the dark horse of hardcore playground equipment, and I've probably missed out forever at this point. If only. I hereby officially retract the last 20-something years of bragging about my brazen childhood antics.

Image: Joe Shlabotnik/Flickr