Just when I thought I had lost the will to blog...we went to Skate World.
And then twenty-seven other things happened to prevent me from blogging. And then there was The Package and I knew I desperately needed to document that experience for posterity. And then forty-six other things happened.
But now I'm back. What am I skipping over in my month-long hiatus? The end of my Early Childhood PTA tenure, Zoe's preschool graduation and birthday party, starting a new website for our salvage hobby, taking the girls to see Iron Man 3 after bed time, and a shit ton of soccer (official measurement).
I also wrote down in my blog notes the word "archie". What the hell is that? I have no idea. Maybe I can't read my own writing. All I can think of when I read that is Archie comics with Betty and Veronica. I hope it's not something important.
Anyway, back to Skate World. Yeah, I'm actually going to postpone The Package post for the moment and hopefully I get to it before next month.
Skate World should have been like a coming home to me as I headed out to Lorain County. Even though I probably frequented the Skate LAND rink out in the boonies of Oberlin more often, it was pretty much the twin to this Skate World and there was definitely a rush of nostalgia.
Followed closely by a wave of nausea and a strong desire to shower.
It is sad to say I've grown quite accustomed to my little bubble of suburban middle class life from the moment I stepped onto my college campus. Even though I spent three years in the armpit of Ohio (AKA Toledo) and then my required stint in Lakewood, I've been tucked in nice and cozy in Small Town, USA for going on seven years, which is really just a more "mature" version of Miami U.
So here we are for a roller skating party in something more along the lines of Napoleon Dynamite. The smell of sweaty feet is a little over powering. The feel of shag carpeted walls and grimy waxed wood makes me wonder if I should have gotten the girls an extra vaccination before this expedition.
It does not help that there was about 200% humidity in the air, reducing every surface to soggier versions of themselves, including my epidermis.
I am not exaggerating when I say this is how I left the place in 1984. The only thing missing is an epic hair band ballad blasting through the speakers. (I think they might have actually been playing an Alt Rock station).
Morgan immediately rolled up the pants she had on over her knees. No slave to fashion, that one. Zoe on the other hand, was ready for a roller derby. If that is, she had any ability to skate whatsoever.
So I spent the next two hours attempting to guide fifty pounds of sweaty limbs and torso around a rain forest condition rink on the most hideous brown skates known to man. Why brown? Why not black? Why did the 70's insist on orange and brown as their theme color?
Since this all happened over a week ago, I guess it is safe to say we haven't come down with diphtheria, gangrene or fleas. Additionally, we didn't break any bones.
When we first tied the skates I gave the warning "Remember, this is how Barbie broke her arm last week. Try to fall on your butt, not your hands." I really need to stop handing out flip advice to Morgan, because she immediately slid into panic room melt down.
But guess what? Despite all of the above, we all had a great time. I'm just going to make a note that roller skating is NOT a summer downpour activity.