It's What I Do

When I was in sixth grade, yo-yos were a big thing. We all brought our Duncan butterflies to school every day and kept them in our desks or pockets, ready to loop-de-loop, around the world, rock the baby, walk the dog, or sleep our yo-yos at a moment's notice. These days, I can't do all the tricks I once could, but I can yo-yo decisively, and most of my sixth-grade students find that pretty impressive.

I keep a couple of yo-yos in the fidget basket by my desk, and kids are welcome to borrow them during breaks. Today one girl grabbed the bright-blue butterfly eagerly and slipped the loop of its string over her finger. Then she lifted her hand and dropped the yo-yo, but her face fell faster than it did when she couldn't get it to return to her palm. I watched her roll the yo-yo over the string to try again, but the toy just jerked a bit downward and stopped again at the end of its string.

"Wind the string around the yo-yo," I suggested, "instead of the yo-yo around the string."

"Why?" she arched an eyebrow doubtfully.

"It's faster and tighter, and you'll have better results," I replied.

She was skeptical, but she tried it my way.

"Now turn your hand over and roll the yo-yo off your fingertips instead of just letting it go," I told her.

She sighed but flipped her hand. 

 "When it gets to the bottom of the string, turn your palm over and give a little jerk up with your wrist," I coached her.

"Okay, here I go," she announced and did a pretty good job executing my directions. The yo-yo made it halfway up the string and her jerk made it fly into the air where she caught it. "I did it!" she cheered, wrapping the string for another try. "I can't believe you taught me!"

"Well "teacher" is my job title," I laughed.