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Oh, look, there’s Becca on the monkey bars.

Oh, look, she’s hanging upside down with her knees and her hands.

Oh, look, she’s hanging upside down with her hands.

Oh, look, she’s hanging upside down with one hand.

Oh, look, she’s not hanging upside down any more.

She stood up, brushed the leaves out of her hair, and grinned sheepishly at me through the kitchen window.