skate night on wheels
Last night Jude wanted me to take him roller skating at Romp 'n Roll, so I did. Further questioning revealed that Jude wanted to go so badly because his school is going on Wednesday, and he wanted to practice skating so he wasn't the most uncoordinated kid there. I reassured him that plenty of kids probably wouldn't be able to let go of the carpeted wall, but Jude still took this practice session seriously.
He did make a lot of progress, especially considering he hadn't been roller skating since age three or four. By the end of the night he was keeping up with me and didn't need the wall at all. He feared the daredevil boys who zipped by, rather inconsiderately close. I told him they didn't want to crash into us any more than we wanted them to. In the end I was the one who got creamed by someone and never saw the culprit.
I developed strong maternal feelings for this little tiny dude in rented red roller skates, black sweatpants, and a yellow T-shirt who had his hair done up in short, spiky braids. He chugged away, favoring one foot. Sometimes I'd turn to look at Jude and almost bump into Little Dude as he passed me on the other side. He was so short I hadn't seen him. Once he fell and my hand just happened to be dangling nearby, so he used it to help himself up and scooted away. Next time we came upon him after a more serious fall, crying. A couple pre-adolescent girls had gathered around him asking if he was okay. I asked him if his mom was here but he didn't hear me and suddenly she showed up. With no communication among any of the involved parties, the mother and I lifted Little Dude off the rink and she helped him to a bench while I skated away with Jude.
We watched the limbo and stuck around for the part of the night where people can dance in the middle of the rink while those who kept their skates on whipped around them.
"This is like the '80s, or the '70s," Jude said.
"Yeah, maybe the '80s," I answered.
I think he meant because of the disco lighting on the rink, but I thought so because it was a bunch of kids getting together and their parents were more than three feet away. Forgot that ever happens anymore.
He did make a lot of progress, especially considering he hadn't been roller skating since age three or four. By the end of the night he was keeping up with me and didn't need the wall at all. He feared the daredevil boys who zipped by, rather inconsiderately close. I told him they didn't want to crash into us any more than we wanted them to. In the end I was the one who got creamed by someone and never saw the culprit.
I developed strong maternal feelings for this little tiny dude in rented red roller skates, black sweatpants, and a yellow T-shirt who had his hair done up in short, spiky braids. He chugged away, favoring one foot. Sometimes I'd turn to look at Jude and almost bump into Little Dude as he passed me on the other side. He was so short I hadn't seen him. Once he fell and my hand just happened to be dangling nearby, so he used it to help himself up and scooted away. Next time we came upon him after a more serious fall, crying. A couple pre-adolescent girls had gathered around him asking if he was okay. I asked him if his mom was here but he didn't hear me and suddenly she showed up. With no communication among any of the involved parties, the mother and I lifted Little Dude off the rink and she helped him to a bench while I skated away with Jude.
We watched the limbo and stuck around for the part of the night where people can dance in the middle of the rink while those who kept their skates on whipped around them.
"This is like the '80s, or the '70s," Jude said.
"Yeah, maybe the '80s," I answered.
I think he meant because of the disco lighting on the rink, but I thought so because it was a bunch of kids getting together and their parents were more than three feet away. Forgot that ever happens anymore.