A teeter-totter sounds like a teetotaler; the latter must keeps his or her balance as to not fall off the wagon.
Yikes, I am weakening!
This reminds me of the matrimonial ads I perused in India. This charmer of a man sought a "tall, fair, slim, beautiful, vegetarian" girl, while he expertly described himself as "tall, very fair, Rajasthani, 40-something, vegetarian, a teetotaler, and morbidly obese."
Points for honesty.
"Teeter-totter" also sounds like "tater-tot," my least favourite form of potato, after waffle fries. I once had the best plate of fish and chips in Sedona, but it was served with waffle fries! So, I resorted to stealing my parents'. That place had very good hot chocolate, as well.
I once got two massive bruises, in the shapes of my fists, from a seesaw. I guess my overgrown thirteen-year-old self kind of deserved that.
It's funny, though. Seesaws start to lose their appeal once you hit a certain height, as they cease to offer thrills. Yet, seesaws begin to strengthen their appeal once you hit a certain age, as you're reminded of the thrills you once got from them, when you were as tall as your bathroom sink, and not now, when the bathroom sink is as tall as your knees.
That is why I favour swings and tires. You can fly high or get really dizzy, take your pick. And then crash into the seesaw.
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