"Sharks on the power play"

When I was younger, maybe 10, I was a professional hula-hooper. Its not like I was being paid to do it. But it was really good at it. I could go for minutes (that sounds way less impressive than it really is). One day I decided to put those skills to good use by competing against all the other kids at this big convention. I beat them. Easily. They were no competition. I figure I got this skill from my mom because at the same convention she competed against all the adults and she won.

Then came the showdown. It was epic. Mother vs. daughter in a no-bars, cage match on a stage. My weapon of choice, purple hula-hoop. Hers, blue hula-hoop. The battle waged on for what felt like hours, (really it was like 3 minutes), and then the pivotal moment happened. My mother's hula hoop faltered, and then it fell. Down to her knees, she attempted to save it gyrating like crazy, but there was no saving it at that point. She fell and the glory fell upon me. I was presented with my prize. A Corvette (model that spun on a pedastal while playing "I Wish They All Could be California Girls" by the Beach Boys. A classic. And yes, it has been in the box in the back of a closet since I got it.). It was mine, all mine. She says she let me win, just to get it over with, but I still won. Booya momma!

And now. I see that it wasn't just me that won that prize, it was my genetics. Passed from mother to daughter, and daughter to niece. Check out my niece, Sam, rocking a hula-hoop just hours after she learned how to do it. She attributes her awesome-ness to the Wii. I attribute it to me.

-Ashley