Ok so it’s hot. Really hot. So hot the humidity is making my hair look like something from the science centre. I’m ok with that. I like summer. I like the warmth of the sun kissing my bare arms. I like not having to wear jackets and boots and being so bundled I end up huffing and puffing just getting from the house to the car.
But faithwriters wants us to write a winter article this week. Hmmm. I wonder sometimes about those faithwriter people. But ok, if that’s what they insist on, then let me tell you about the time my one daughter squinted her face up at me and said, “Mom, you promised. You promised you would take us tobogganing and winter is almost over and we haven’t gone yet?”
“Yeah, Mom,” My youngest piped up. “When you going to take us? You promised.”
“Hamm.” I glared at my oldest, but she sweetly smiled back at me.
“Ok, ok. Tomorrow. We go.”
“Yeah. We’re going tobogganing.” The girls shouted and hollered.
That night after I put them to bed, I peeked out the window and saw a slight drizzle of rain. I whispered a silent prayer. “Please God, let it not be too wet tomorrow. I did promise the girls that I would take them sledding.”
It rained all that night. When we awoke in the morning, we noticed most of the snow how melted. The look of disappointment on the face of my girls moved me to bark out some orders, “Get your jackets, boots and snow pants on. Throw the toboggan in the van. We’re going on the hills.”
“But, Mom.” My oldest looked concerned, “It’s probably really slippery out there.”
Not to be deterred I replied, “Oh that will just make it more fun.”
“Are you sure, Mom?”
I dismissed her apprehension and opened the hall closet. “Stop worrying. It will be great.”
We drove the five minutes to killer hill. Usually crowds of laughing, screaming kids, parents and couples glided down the long slice of snow covered mountain, but this morning, no one had ventured onto it’s icy mount.
We pulled our gear from the car and made our way down the three steps onto the hill.
“Whoa!” I screamed as my legs went in different directions and I fell down. The kids tumbled on top of me. The snow had become a sheet of ice.
“I don’t think this is such a good idea, Mom.” My eldest tried to convince me.
“C’mon, we just have to somehow make it to the top. Sliding down will be a breeze.”
The kids looked worried.
Somehow we managed to slide, slip and work our way to the top of the hill. Steadying the toboggan took all my effort, but finally, I plunked myself down on the wooden seat. My oldest daughter hesitated.
“Let’s do this.” I shoulted with enthusiasm.
Trying to balance herself, she carefully took her position behind me and then my youngest climbed on behind her.
I stared at the long descent, then gave a good push and we were off, flying like a speeding rocket.
“Pull back.” I screamed. “This thing is going too fast and is out of control.”
I tried to use my feet to slow the speeding toboggan but the slippery ice made it impossible. My efforts were useless.
“Roll to the side.” I shouted. “We need to get off this thing.”
I leaned to the right and pulled back and forth on the sled until I managed to it tilt it enough to tip it. I fell hard onto my shoulder and screamed in agony. The three of us tumbled and rolled down the icy hilltop before coming to a stop.
My shoulder throbbed. I wanted to cry from the pain, but I didn’t want to scare the kids.
“You ok, Mom?” They both looked at me.
“Are you ok?” I asked.
“Can you both do me a favor? Next time I get one of my hair brained ideas, please don’t let me follow through with it.”
We lay on our backs on the glistening bed of ice staring up at the sky. I tried not to focus on the throbbing.
“Guys. You have one very crazy mom.”
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