Yogabug in a galaxy of his own

Daniel is starting yoga classes after school on Monday – how great is that?

He practically begged me to sign him up for the sessions and to be honest, I couldn’t write out a cheque fast enough.
Ah, my sensitive little boy, I thought. Yes, yes he loves his rugby with daddy and he loves fighting and swordplay and rough stuff like that.
But he also has a mellow, chilled out side he wants to indulge – and I couldn’t be happier.

And the Yogabug classes sound perfect – a safe, professional way to stretch his mind and his body.

He knows a few basic moves anyway. He can do Downward Dog with ease, he loves trying to do shoulder stands and he’s even had a go at Plough Pose (I had to attend yoga classes twice a week for a year to achieve that move).

But this morning, as I was sorting Dan’s bag out for school, he asked excitedly: “Did you put the money in for my Yodabugs class?”

Yodabugs. Yoda. He totally thinks I’m paying for Star Wars classes doesn’t he?

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