I can't snorkel, and it's not just because I can't really swim (or because I'm afraid of drowning); I just can't wear those fin things. They don't work on my feet. Instead of acting as helpful water-maneuvering tools, they're more like lead weights, pulling me to my watery grave. That being said, I'm not very talented with skateboards, either. I just wobble around for a few centimeters before I fall down. And I've never even tried skis -- water or snow -- and that's for a very good reason. (Can you picture me with two skinny boards strapped to my feet while racing over liquid H2O tied behind a boat or careening down a frozen mountain? Nothing good can happen there. Trust me.)
But while I am mostly a klutz who should really just stick to non-moving flats, flip flops or sneakers, I will strap on some ice skates or roller skates every now and again... and that "again" happened a few weeks ago when my neighbor, her two kids, Sean, Jaiden and I went roller skating!
It was the first time skating for Jaiden, Colt and Cailyn. And it was the first time I'd tied on those stinky, cardboard-brown roller rentals in over 20 years. How sad is that? I think I went ice skating about 10 years ago... but I haven't been on wheels in two decades!
Needless to say, with three young skating newbies and three very out-of-practice adults, we were definitely a sight to see! Our "war wounds" were also a sight -- bloody heel blisters, sore muscles, deep purple bruises from hip to knee... and quite possibly one cracked coccyx... (AKA tail bone)!
And the verdict? We all had loads of fun! In fact, we'll be at the rink again in a few days. I may dress Jaiden in a padded suit. And I'm bringing some Febreeze....
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