Sparking the Olympic Dream
I have said before that my childhood wasn’t a Norman Rockwell painting. I have no frame of reference for what family traditions can be – beyond what I saw on TV (I always wanted the Cunninghams to be my mom and dad … until I saw what a train wreck Joanie ended up becoming – but I digress).
But there was one thing my dad took seriously, and that was sledding and the quest for the fastest sled. My Dad’s most preferred time to buy a sled was the night before a big snowstorm. While other adults were out buying milk and eggs, my dad was test-driving flexible flyers.
I have never been one to throw caution to the wind, but when it came to sledding, I was a maniac. We’d pack down the snow after a good blanketing—and my Dad and I were even known to put a fine spray of water on it, so it would freeze up and turn the back yard into a bobsled run. Or, as we’d call it today: a lawsuit waiting to happen.
He’s been chomping at the bit waiting for Spicy Girl to go for a ride, and this winter, the “grandparent visit”, and “perfect sledding snowstorm” planets aligned. I was about to put SG down for a nap, when my father emerged looking like he was auditioning for the role of Yukon Cornelius. “Ok let’s get going.”
“Dad, I was just about to put her down for a nap.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, the weather is perfect. We’re going sledding.”
So we bundled her up for her inaugural ride. She sat up in the sled, and Grandpa pulled her around the yard. She was thrilled. I was thrilled. It was a great day without incident.
Until Grandma arrived and Grandpa insisted on showing her how well Spicy Girl was doing with the sled. “Oh, Tom, please, be careful! You always go too fast!” She pleaded.
“It’s OK, he’s been taking it easy…” And just as I was about to finish my sentence, the sled got away from Grandpa and Spicy Girl was careening into a pine tree.
As the tree got closer, Spicy Girl lay down so she would miss getting blasted by the branches. Once the sled came to a stop, she rolled out giggling the entire time.
Grandpa caught up with her and put her back in the sled and pulled her up the hill. “See, she’s a natural. Sign her up for luge lessons.”
“OK Dad. I’ll start icing up the backyard.”
