We went out sledding today in our emart/thrift store sleds, and a good time was had by (almost) all. Shane has steadfastly refused to slide, which is a little perplexing, because he is completely fearless in almost all other regards. Today I watched him grab the kitchen counter with his little monkey hands and walk up the vertical cupboard door, spidey style. He didn't quite make it all the way up, but it was close.
I have to say, I have a small issue with the sleds myself. Neither Lloyd nor Weston seemed to have this trouble, but I could not get the sled to stay straight and upright. I veered off and crashed every time, and I could feel every pebble and blade of grass under the snow as I
I felt like the heroine of the princess and the pea story, remember that one? Just to refresh your memory, somehow the princess gets screwed over and forced to masquerade as a poor person and is later proved to be a princess because she can feel a pea under twenty mattresses, ruining her precious beauty sleep for the evening. Boy, I could tell her some stories about mattresses and pee that would curl her hair; she wouldn't even need any beauty sleep! I was feeling a little snarky about princesses just now, but then I started thinking: princessing is probably a pretty hard gig these days. The Prince Charmings (or is that Princes Charming?) are going broke or getting indicted, or both; and the nail salons are closing all over town. It's a rough life, sweetheart. Not that princesses have anything to do with sleds. I know that, really. I just don't like princesses. So sue me.
Anyway, I carefully examined the flimsy sweat shop sleds for any sign of lumps, bumps or other manufacturing flaws that might affect their performance, but found nada. I am forced to conclude that if something is misshapen, it is probably me.
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