I give a casual nod. “Want to learn how to do a backflip off the pommel horse?”
She purses her lips to keep from smiling. “Sure, I guess.”
I beckon the gaggle of kids to come closer now that they’ve finished their rolls. As they meander over, I glance down atBirthday Girl. She lets slip a little smile. On a hunch, I offer, “I could also show you how to throw a punch.”
Her eyes widen, excitement finally breaking through. “Whoa, forreal?!”
“For real.”
“Yeah! I want—” She catches herself and clears her throat. “I mean, I guess that’s not completely boring.”
I raise a brow.
Her poker face wavers, and she puts a hand over her mouth to hide her excited giggles as I lead the group over to the pommel horse. I usually avoid showing off at kids’ parties—the kids try to imitate you and that can go all sorts of wrong—but I have something to prove here.
“Alright everyone, listen up.” That buys me a microsecond to keep their attention, so I grab the two pommels and hop, catching my weight with my arms and swinging my legs up into a handstand. I twist and land on the end of the horse in a crouch, looking down at the gathered children. “You know gladiators?” I ask.
One boy perks up. “They have swords and fight lions!”
“Yeah, sure. Well, they were Romans, and they had some buddies who liked to do fancy horse tricks.” I slap the leather beneath my feet. “So they invented pommel horses to practice.”
A girl pauses picking her nose to ask, “You mean it’s called a pommel horse because it’s for-real for horse tricks?”
“Pommelhorse.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder. “Those handles are the pommels. And yeah. That’s what it was invented for. So, anyway. Y’all wanna do a backflip off this thing?”
Screeching cheers erupt from the group of kids, and I plug my ears until they’re done. “Alright, it’s gonna look like this.”
I stand and turn my back to them, then jump from the horse, throwing my head back and pulling my legs in tight.
It’s as easy as walking, finding my mark on the floor and tugging my feet under me at the last second, landing on bent knees. The kids cheer again, and I turn to offer a hand to Birthday Girl. She takes it, and I hoist her up onto the horse.
“Alright, all you gotta do is swing your arms up over your head, jump up, then tuck your knees in. Got it?”
She gives a determined nod. “Got it.”
Birthday Girl stands on the pommel horse and turns her back to the rest of her party. Nerves flicker on her face, and she hesitates as she smooths her palms against her thighs.
I know that feeling. No matter how much chaos is around you, it all fades away. It’s just you, the leather under your feet, and the knowledge of what you’re about to do.
She takes a deep breath, squeezes her eyes shut, and jumps. Her arms carry her momentum backward, and I catch her a bit higher than the horse, smoothly flipping her over and placing her feet on the mat.
Her eyes flash open, and a smile breaks across her face. “Whoa.”
I nod and offer a cool smile. “Well done.” I raise my palm and she slaps it in a high-five.
“I want to go again! Don’t help me.”
I chuckle as I boost her back onto the pommel horse. “I gotta spot you or I’m gonna be in trouble with your mom, but if you practice in the pool, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. This time, keep your eyes open.”
There’s no hesitation before her second jump, and I carefully track her flip, ready to grab her at any point. She’s going to land on her knees—and I make the split-second call to let it happen.
As her legs quietly slap against the mat, she gasps. Out of the corner of eye, I see her mother rushing toward us, and I hold up a hand. By some miracle, Dance Mom hesitates.
Birthday Girl jumps up to her feet, grinning ear to ear. “I did it!” She whirls. “Did you see, Mom? I did it! I did a backflip! All by myself.”
Dance Mom’s expression softens. “You sure did, honey. I just… wanted to bring your water bottle.”
There’s a tug at my sleeve as the next kid jostles for their turn, and I direct the kids into a line.
