I thought you would like to know that back in the 1960’s your Aunt was a “proto-skipper” of sorts. When we walked from Wiley Hall where I lived over to the Women’s residence hall we would skip across the the athletic field that separated the two dormitories. We referred to this as “polka-ing across the IM field” — however, given our complete lack of any knowledge of the polka, you may be assured we were in fact skipping.
To this day, skipping remains my favorite means of locomotion from parking lots into shopping malls. I have had to back off on this somewhat when my youngest daughter is present. At age 17 she is definitely mortified to have her white-haired dad exhibiting such unrestrained joy. I am fully confident that with time she will become more tolerant.
It seems to me that the path to happiness is to explore with an open mind and then embrace those things that you find which bring you delight. You have clearly done well at this! Skippingly yours, Bill