This is not my story to tell, but it really made me laugh, so I'm just going to tell it anyway...
My husband took the kids to the park the other day and was pushing the four-year-old on the swing. "Can I have a rocket, Dad?" she asked.
A 'rocket' is a really hard swing-push that my husband has devised over the years of parenting which involves him holding the swing back really high then basically dropping it while somehow managing to run underneath it. Cue screams of delight from the kids, cue me having to hold my breath for fear of injuries/whiplash etc.
"Okay, you can have a rocket," he said. "Ready.... whoosh!"
A bit more swinging took place and then, "Dad, can I have ANOTHER rocket, please?"
"Okay, another rocket coming up," he said. "Ready... whoosh!"
A bit more swinging, and then, "Dad, can I have a different sort of lettuce now?"