This past weekend, we drove over to Spokane so we could take your dad skiing for his birthday. We left on Friday night, right after your dad finished work. I packed, your dad loaded the car, and you sat on the counter eating half a pound of cheese slices.
We had a nice corned beef dinner at Grandma Sue's, then went to bed reasonably early so your dad and I would be rested and ready for a full day of skiing on Saturday. Here's where the plan went wrong: we let you sleep in the same ZIP code, and a result, we were neither rested nor ready.
You had no interest in sleeping on Friday night. Your dad thought you would hush if we put you in bed with us, but here's the problem: you like to sleep sideways (parallel to the headboard) AND you don't want anyone to touch you while you sleep. Since you're 27 inches tall, and the bed is only 56 inches wide, that leaves approximately 3 inches of mattress a piece for your dad and me to cling to. It's possible those numbers don't add up, but I can't use your dad's calculator to double-check, since you borrowed it to make all of your important phone calls, and it hasn't been heard from in days.
Which brings us to Ski Day:
Grandma Sue made us a nice big breakfast, then we headed off to the mountains.
The nice lady at the ticket booth always says something like, "Here are your passes. Have a great day!"
but what I always hear is:
Here's the deal: We're going to dangle you in mid-air on a chair that was manufactured when everybody still had high hopes for the Carter administration. You will lose all feeling in your fingers. Also your toes. You will sway in the sub-zero breeze until we deposit you at the top of a ridiculously tall mountain. Then, you will need to battle your way down, trying not to collide with a tree or a punk snowboarding kid who has decided to "take a break" in the middle of the run. When you think you've mastered the hill and no one could possibly ski it better, you will be passed by a three year-old going 70mph who doesn't even need the help of ski poles. You will feel old, cold and demoralized. Oh, and that'll be $50 per person. Here are your passes! Have a great day!
OK, that's a little unfair, because skiing can be super-fun, and I love doing things that make your dad happy. It's just that any activity is more enjoyable when you don't spend the day wishing you could take a nap against a tree. As always, your dad was resilient and had a great time. He's really an excellent skier, and all day long, he kept talking about how he can't wait to teach you to ski.
While we were off on the mountain, you were back at Grandma Sue's, developing a love for Blue Cheese Dressing.
The best part of the day was when we got back and I got to have a glass of wine and a heapin' helpin' of cold medicine hang out in the hot tub with you and Grandma Sue.
So, thanks to Grandma Sue for watching you while we skied. And to your dad, all I can say is that we owe him a birthday do-over, because neither one of us was on our best behavior this weekend, and he deserves better.
Love,
Mom
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