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No, he doesn’t have 76 toes. That’s the number of pushes I gave him on the swing before the others called me to push them on the tire swing. It’s really not that many, 76. You get into kind of a rhythm: push, lean, pause. Push, lean, pause. Push, lean, ¬†pause. It can be relaxing if you want it to be. On regular days, I’d rather be sitting on the park bench watching than pushing them on the swings. But on the days when I choose to live in the moment, pushing feels like a gift.