Went skating this evening for the second time in my adulthood. I think that brings me to perhaps a total of 5 times in my lifetime. Needless to say, I am not very good at this whole skating thing. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that my sense of balance is never very good, even when not attempting to travel with wheels attached to my shoes. Who came up with this bizarre pasttime anyway?
The truth is I had a great time. Of course, I went skating with my
nieces, which pretty much assured me of having a good time. I adore
them both and take great delight in spending time with them. I should
be grateful that neither of my nieces are experts in the skating rink
either, and therefore do not leave me in their dust like many of the
other munchkins on the rink’s floor.
T.S. in particular likes for me to skate with her. So, over and
over, we maneuvered our way around the rink, with the wall as our prop
and savior. A.J. had a bear in her arms for half the night, after
receiving it from an older child who won it in a raffle and wished to
pass it on. Therefore she skated with one arm waving for balance and
the other arm clutching that bear, as if the bear was her prop. If I
had had a stuffed bear at the skating rink, I think I would have wanted
it strapped to my ass for additional padding (not that there’s not
plenty of padding already there), but that’s just me.
At some point during the evening, I had to go to the restroom, so I
left the two girls skating together (A.J. made a face at my command, but
then appeared to have fun with her sister despite her reluctance —
isn’t that the way of siblings everywhere?) and headed for the
facilities. I now believe that Skate City’s bathrooms
were designed by some kind of torture enthusiast. Upon entering the
women’s restroom, I was appalled to realize there were no pads on the
floor. Of course, this realization came a little too late as I flew in
the doorway, leaving the carpeted hallway behind and hurtling at
breakneck speed across the tile floor toward a stall door. All I
could think is “god I hope no one’s in that stall, because I’m going to
land in her lap!”
Luckily the stall was empty. I slammed into the door and managed to
catch myself on the top of the door, which was so short that I gave
myself whiplash as my head bounced forward over the top of the stall
door and back. I think those stall doors were designed for midgets.
Did they not consider the fact that adults might also be idiot enough
to don roller skates and come flying through their restroom doors?
After entering the stall, I was appalled to realize that the toilet
was only about a foot off the ground. On roller skates, I somehow
managed to lower myself four feet where I took care of business with my
knees in my face (when my feet weren’t flying out from under me of
course). The worst part was trying to extricate myself and stand back
up. It required a sense of balance (see above), inhuman strength (not
one of my assets) and wheelchair bars (which were not in evidence at
all). With my feet scrambling for purchase, I used the bottom of the
stall to haul myself forward and up. Thank god the restroom was empty
and no one heard my growls and curses as I attempted to lift my carcass
from that damn toilet.
Note to self: NEVER ATTEMPT TO USE THE RESTROOM WHILE ON ROLLER SKATES AGAIN.
Truthfully, despite the crazy bathrooms, we had a great time,
A.J., T.S. and I. I'm looking forward to when my nephew
C.S. is in kindergarten and can join us on these school-sponsored
events. Yep, lots of fun flying into the walls with less-adventurous
parents looking on.
When I asked T.S. whether her parents skated with her when they
brought her to these things, she said no. I asked why I had to skate
then and she said, “because you’re a nice aunt.” I guess I cannot ask
for a better reason than that. The things we do for love.