When my family was growing up they were normal, lively kids. Once in awhile their energy would overwhelm them and they'd start doing gymnastics in the living room. Their dad put up with a lot of things but cartwheels and jumping jacks weren't among them. They could run up and down the stairs or slide across the kitchen without a word, but start antics in the living room and the big guns came out. I'm sure they can still hear him yelling, "This ain't a damn gymnasium!" Since they all have their own living rooms now, I guess they can do as many cartwheels as they want.
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