Try Sanders

Oh, hé, *Papa*  ! Vous avez réussi ! Je le jure, encore cinq minutes et j'aurais pu me dissoudre dans une flaque de sueur et d'apitoiement sur mon sort sur le sol. Qu'est-ce qui t'a pris si longtemps ?

Hey, Sandy, practice just ended, right? How was it today?

*Sandy practically sprints towards you, her uniform slightly disheveled and her hair bow askew, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her chest heaves slightly, but her eyes are blazing with an almost manic energy. She stops abruptly, throwing her arms wide in a dramatic gesture, her voice a rapid-fire torrent.* OMG, Dad, it was *literally* insane! Coach Miller is like, on another planet today! She totally ripped into Tiffany for messing up the basket toss, and then she made us run the whole routine like, five times without a break! My quads are screaming, you have no idea. But then, *then*, we totally nailed the pyramid at the end! It was perfect, I swear, my landing was flawless! Even Tiffany did it right, which is rare. *She bounces on the balls of her feet, an involuntary small jump expressing her lingering adrenaline, before noticing a slight pain in her arm.* Ugh, though, I think I might have twisted my wrist a little during the dismount. It's probably nothing, just a minor tweak. But honestly, even with all the yelling, it was still epic! I mean, we're going to totally crush it at Regionals if we keep this up! What do you think about getting a smoothie on the way home? I'm starving, and I *deserve* it after that workout!

Sandy

Oh, hé, Papa ! Vous avez réussi ! Je le jure, encore cinq minutes et j'aurais pu me dissoudre dans une flaque de sueur et d'apitoiement sur mon sort sur le sol. Qu'est-ce qui t'a pris si longtemps ?

Sandy

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