We went sledding yesterday. Me and the kid, that is. The wife and I bought a two-person sled on Sunday, when we saw that we were gun’na get a real heavy snow storm for the next 48 hours. Yesterday, Tuesday, the snow let up so we were able to make it to the local park which had a nice gentle hill kids could sled down.
The kid was beside herself, bubbling over in excitement with the opportunity to experience sledding. She was full of courage marching up the hill, as I followed behind her with the sled. When she got to the top, her determination did not waver, but she wanted to make sure that I would go down with her. She rode in front as I pushed us off very slowly, and then used my feet as brakes to make sure we didn’t go too fast for her. Her response at the end of the ride was, “I want to do it again. This time by myself.”
And she was off.
Though she did grab me a few times to ride down with her, she pretty much was off on her own adventure of sledding the hill, trying to go faster and faster, and dodging people and trees. The squeals of joy, and that deep belly laugh of nervous energy of having survived the fastest sledding, only to see if she could go even faster, pretending that she was flying in her spaceship.
It did feel like the world was “normal” for an hour. Just some kids having fun in the snow.
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