Spinning office chairs. Until now, I had forgotten all about them. I had my own well into my teenage years, a dull black one made of very sturdy material, and my persistent spinning broke off the armrests and damaged the chair's mechanics. Spinning helped to keep me occupied in unspectacular hours.
I spun before I was given that office chair too. When I broke my mother's flower pots and green plants, I was never to do it again in the living-room. Handstands were barred from all rooms but my own as well as I later found out when I broke more plants and decorations.
I spin a little every now and then, being too grown-up/tall to do some serious spinning anywhere but outside and in gyms. Round and round and done. No risks involved and it's accepted almost everywhere.
Lockheart wrote:
Then Dad hung a swing off a tree in the backyard. I loved to swing, but equally I loved to twist it around as tightly as it would go so that I would spin one way then the other until the spin ran out of momentum.
I did that too on my swing (which is no more these days, R.I.P. Mr Swing) in our backyard. From the moment they decided I was "old enough" to not fall off and would let me sit on the swing on my own, I would swing and spin on the swing for hours until the sky took on a dark tinge and I'd be hurried inside to have dinner.
I feel lucky that I had a swing; I would do that a lot in addition to just swinging normally. I would do it all at different rates, too. I spent so many afternoons on that thing...