Skating

Took the kids ice skating yesterday. Day off for all of us, Emily was sick, Jack had been saying he wanted to go for a while. So we piled into the car in our warm clothes and bike helmets (for the kids) and headed to the ice rink.

I am not a particularly adept skater. Emily and Jack are both better. But I manage, and while Jack made his way around and around, Kate and I went around the edge, gripping the rail as we went. Kate did okay, taking little steps, holding my hand, continuing on. Every so often Jack would circle by, offering tips, occasionally wiping out.

We probably did this for close to an hour before both were hungry, so we hit the snack bar. Burgers, hot dogs, chicken nuggets, French fries. I got a soda, they got chocolate milk...and hot chocolate. I said to Jack, are you sure you don't want lemonade or water or something? He maintained he anted hot chocolate. Halfway into the meal, of course, he asked to try my soda. And enjoyed it. The hot chocolate was OK.

As we were finishing our meal, Kate put her bike helmet on and walked (awkwardly, on skates) over to the rink. I said, uh, ok, you are ready? Jack and I were still eating. She went out onto the ice on her own as I wolfed down my last bite. Figured, well, she will be clinging to the edge when I get there.

In fact, when I got to the ice, I spotted her out in the middle. Walking slowly along, on her own, upright, near the cones in the center. She turned to look back at me, saw me, grinned.

So yeah, she kind of picked it up.

At one point they had to clean the ice, so everyone was kicked off. I thought they might want to go, but no. We grabbed a seat in the stands and watched the zamboni go round and round and round again.