This weekend I remembered that I don’t like to sit out, when there is fun to be had. If you’ve been reading the posts of this past week, you know that I haven’t been skiing since before my son was born. You also know that my son had a small triumph of sorts this past weekend: he got on skis for the first time.
The problem is that I only got to share in his skiing debut, from the bottom of the hill. That’s no place for me to be. I want to take him all the way to the top of the run, chatting on the chair lifts as we get there, and then race him down to the bottom.
I’ve always been there to share all of the adventures with him, so I’m determined to make it up the hill with him soon. It’s time to tune up those skis, buy some new ski pants, and work out those lazy muscles of mine.
Today I’m dreaming of hitting the slopes again. And just in case I try to talk myself out of it, I put together this little video of my son shredding down the hill (filmed courtesy of his very patient, snowboarding aunt). This is the view I want of my son skiing.
Go check the new Monday Dreams this week at Mother of all Trips.