For entirely too long, our children have longed to go ice skating. For reasons very obvious to me, and affirmed yesterday afternoon, we had not gone. We live in the South and it is not natural for us to strap blades onto our feet and skate around a block of ice in the cold. Our blood is thin and our warmest clothes are from Old Navy; a T-shirt with a scarf tied around our neck to look cute, not necessarily warm, but cute as a button.
In the spirit of Christmas break and the fact that our children were only one fun event away from 'spoiled past the point of no return', we caved.
According to the online description, our fair city had created an fabulous outdoor ice rink in the heart of downtown. We put on our socks, went by the bank to take out a second mortgage to pay for our outing and headed down to Miracle Dallas.
A small part of me started imagining Trey whizzing around the rink like Chazz Michael Michaels,outfit and all, holding me in the air and spinning while the children encircled us and sang "We are the Champions."
In reality, it was a postage stamp with ice on it and not enough rails. All fantasy aside, I was sure we were going to need a LOT of rails. We detoured and headed to the Galleria where we could find an indoor ice skating rink. Not as authentic, but a rink all the same.
Right now, I'm going to pause and go ahead and speak my mind. I may lose one of my two readers over this but it's a risk I must take. I really resent the fact that I have to cover my children's eyes throughout our time at the mall because a little pink boutique thought it would be genius marketing to plaster pictures of barely dressed models on all of their shopping bags. "Mommy, is that what Santa's elves really look like?" "Baby, without Photoshop, that's not what anyone really looks like." Seriously, they've already moved in across from my favorite Gap/Gap Kids and put their mannequins in leather with whips, what more exposure to small children do they possibly need?
Anywho. One. Two. There we go, off my soapbox now...
Have the rental skates always smelled that bad?
In all honesty, one of my favorite things to do is people-watch. Not in a stalker sort of way but in an 'I'm at the airport/park/mall and I like to watch people.' sort of way. It could have been a great time for me except, instead, Trey and I were on the ice with three children who could not skate and one that just liked for us to watch his every move.
"Watch this Mom! MOM!"
We know we lost man-to-man coverage with the birth of our third child (and we're so thankful for you, baby) but, oh, on the ice, it's as if we each had an 800 pound orangutan hanging on us trying to do the hokey pokey.
And the crying!
"My goodness. It's just a little ice and blades and freezing cold water! Toughen up, Mommy!"
We were eye candy for the sisterhood of people-watchers.
After about 30 minutes, everyone had enough so we turned in our smelly skates and checked that one off our list. I hate to be Debbie Downer but did we just spend about $2 a minute to skate? We all had blisters and wet bottoms so we headed off to recuperate with some good ol' comfort food.
Cheap Tex Mex.
Margaritas. Now THAT'S the kinda frozen I can live with.
Ok, Aggies are all tied up in the third so I better run.