Thursday, February 19, 2009

What a lift!


You just have to know my son.

He’s a great boy. He’s funny, good-natured--and klutzy. I’m never sure if he falls down on purpose, but he sure seems to have fun doing it no matter where he is—soccer field, basketball court, in the driveway, at school, in church, and now he can add on the ski slope to his list. He falls; he laughs, and I worry. It’s a pattern.

I watched in horror as he fell over and over again during his ski lesson on our recent vacation. It wasn’t so much his falling that bothered me. It was where he fell--right smack dab in the middle of the slope while crazy skiers and snowboarders dodged him at the last minute. After repeating the fall, laugh and scare mama scenario a dozen times, he began to get the hang of it.

So, once he could finally slow down without skiing backwards, he progressed from the bunny slope to a larger slope that required a ski lift. After watching my son and his daddy navigate up and down the big hill a few times, I got talked into tagging along. And somehow this worry-wart mom got paired with her forever-falling son for the ski lift ride. I knew this was not going to be a good idea.

The gate opened, and off I went like a race horse, just in time to hear him yell, “Wait, Mom!”

He must not have known that a body in motion on the ski slopes stays in motion—well, my body, anyway, and I skied to the red line. Okay, just beyond the red line, as my son followed suit. We had just stopped when we felt the lift under us. We were lifted into the air with my son’s fanny barely, I mean barely, touching the chair. Not only that, the boy was leaning forward. Did I mention there was no rail?

I threw down my poles and grabbed his coat by the collar and pulled him back with one hand while hanging on with the other.

“Mom, are you worried?” he asked, incredulously. “I’ve done this with Dad a bunch of times, and I haven’t fallen yet.”

So, knowing he was safe in my grasp, I began to focus on how I was going to get off the lift without my poles.

“Are you going to use those poles?” I asked my son.

“You can have them,” he said, like a good boy, “as soon as I use them to get off.”

He may fall down a lot, but apparently he hasn’t been landing on his head! As for me and my exit off the chair lift, I’m praying there’s not a you tube video out there somewhere. Let’s just say he comes by it honestly.

1 comment:

Vivi said...

Thanks Leigh, I needed that. I laughed myself to tears.