Monday, November 24, 2014

Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'...

"Wait, what?! You’re on that one,” my husband firmly stated, clutching a colorful invitation stamped with a large roller skate. Visions of slow jams, backward gliding, neon lights and terrible carpet flashed before my eyes. That feeling of exhilaration from a song dedication, holding a boys’ hand for 10 seconds, and giggling with girlfriends while you compared skate poms flashed through my head. And with that, I said:

“I’m in.”
For these great inventions, yet another genius use for PVC pipe.

Before the big day, most of our car rides consisted of a zillion questions, ranging from the difference between roller and ice skates, what the floor was like, how hard the task was and my plans to be engaged with the event. For me, there were inquiries also, like: “how the hell will I survive this 100 pounds larger and 15+ years less coordinated?!” Needless to say the anticipation of THE FIRST SKATE PARTY was in full effect.

Entering the non-descript door, the smell of carnival food, warm bodies, and plastic prizes greeted us. Immediately transported to the 80’s/90’s, the patterned carpet met my vision, the brown skates with orange wheels exactly as I remembered and a crew of workers that looked like they could have been the same as the ones I once feared for skating through the middle at the Omaha rink. In short, it was a weird version of awesomeness.
Big L was immediately on the move, ready to take on the feat, growling at me for the pace of tying up his skates, then immediately trying to find his footing as they slipped from beneath him time and time again. Not knowing if his heel had even made it into the skate, I tried my own legs with the four wheels beneath, finding it surprisingly familiar but more painful than what I remembered when I was 12. And with that…

We were off.
Then we were back…

And thank goodness Big L wanted to use it for a crutch, because gah knows mama needed it too.
From there it was a blend of determination, groin-splitting falls, lots of laughter, keeping up with the competition (aka his classmates in attendance), rescue missions, cruising, sweat and tears.

At the point I was dismissed because “he doesn’t need me and can do it on his own” (knife to the heart), I contemplated the following learnings regarding this skating soiree:

1.     There are muscles, tendons and gah knows what else in your rear and feet you never knew you had, that can be discovered with skating.
2.     The theme music will longer be Madonna or Chicago, but rather tunes that remind you of Kim K’s latest photo shoot. You may also have a long pause when you discover your child may know Gangnam style song, including the moves, along with Megan Trainer’s “All About that Bass.”
3.     I wished I had once again invented the simple PVC pipe puzzle pieces with wheels on them.
4.     Serving as the rink DJ may have to go on my list of “worst jobs ever” list.
5.     Scratch that: the skate distribution and cleanup guy is the worst job ever.
6.     Speaking of guys – who was that one hot one working there and why?!
7.     This activity is not for the weak of heart. Or core. Or legs. Or arms for that matter.
8.     Proper attire is acquired: the stretchy tank, loose sweater and crack baring jeans (not by choice, but by fit) were NOT the answer.
9.     Stopping is not a learned skill – it must be practiced. Or improvised.
10.  There is still a place for glow accessories. The rink is one of them. Fourth of July and Kenny concerts are another.
I could go on, but I think you get my point.

Needless to say, it was a memorable afternoon and an activity I’d do with my Big again. In fact, he’s got LW on the list to ask this weekend. We’ll see if her Mom is yet recovered…

Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ – a throwback activity good for the whole family.

No comments: