Or, watch MTV—either/or.
For those of us in the crowd (myself included) who may be nerds or geeks or rednecks or whatev’s, Parkour is when those people run up walls, do a handstand off a fence rail and a flip over a garbage container, then follow that up with a roll under a park bench.
I like to call it Urban Gymnastics.
My kitten, Napoleon (classic "short man" syndrome on this guy, by the way...) is unbelievably talented at Parkour. (Kittens throughout the ages have had this skill, but thank God we now have a name for it...)
Say you’re me, and you’re sitting in a chair, just an ordinary, ugly reclining chair, and maybe you have a remote control for the television resting on one arm of the chair and your phone on the other arm, and you’re doing important Facebook stuff on the laptop while cradling a cup of
Oh, come on! Play along!
Suddenly, you hear the kitten barreling down the hallway in his distinctive gallop, and as he rounds the corner, you realize with some horror that he’s headed right for you. In the split second it takes for him to get from the hallway to the chair, the only thought that runs through your mind is that when that cat hits your lap at that speed, you are going to spill
What happens instead? Magic.
The kitten leaps from three feet away to the right arm of the chair, spots the remote, adjusts, and lands just beyond it. Then, in the same movement, he launches himself to the top of the chair, hangs momentarily behind your head, then proceeds down the other side, skipping gingerly over the phone, following that with a beautiful long jump to the coffee table where he narrowly avoids three lit candles, vaults again, ricocheting off the front of the sofa, and before you know it, is on his way back down the hall.
And not a drop of