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Sunday, January 25, 2009

Me...Roller Skating...Uh Huh

Last night, I accompanied my best friend and helped host her daughter's 7th birthday party. Off we go with five 7-year old girls to party hearty. First stop...Pizza Hut. Have you ever gone into a Pizza Hut on a Saturday night around 5pm. I suggest you don't. We had a little wait, but soon got seated at a table, surrounded by deafening loud talkers and screaming children. Add our five to the mix and whoa! Of course, during the lull between salad and waiting to be served our pizza, every one of them has to go to the bathroom. My friend takes them all to the one-unit potty while I wisely wait at the table, enjoying the 46 seconds of silence until the waitress brings our dinner. As I start serving the pizza slices, all the little girls come back to the table, one by one. About 5 minutes later, a "shot" is heard throughout the restaurant. Everyone in the place grows silent. All heads turn our way. Yes, it was one of our girls, playing with one of those firework poppers under the table. Sorry folks, false alarm, no drive-by here. The shooter breaks down into sobs under the hood of her coat.

Ok, let's get out of Pizza Hut...everyone gets a quarter on the way out to hit the machine that shoots out cheesy plastic rings that little girls love. Believe it or not, there wasn't that much fighting about who wanted which ring!

Off to the skating rink we go! Out of the five girls 1.5 of them can roller skate. We spent the first hour watching them all go around the kiddie rink, holding on to the railing for dear life. The first attempt for one of them to go to the big rink ended up with me getting a bag of ice from the snack bar to avoid the potential fat lip resulting from the head on collision with another skater. Back to the kiddie rink. My friend says "can you hold my bag, I'm going to get skates". Well, I'm not going to be the only one not skating! "Get me some too, will you?" Where did those words come from? Who said that? She comes back with men's skates because apparently all of the skaters this evening are wearing my size. I think they've been renting the same skates since I was in high school. Take a look at these beauties:

I have to say, when I was in high school and college, I was an excellent skater. Went skating every weekend, could do some tricks, you know...good skater! Fast forward to the year 2009. Not so good. It is not like riding a bike. I blame the skates, or my friend who picked the skates. It certainly can't be that I've lost "my groove" in the last 25 years or so, can it? As I waddle to the kiddie rink with my head held high, my best friend in the whole world takes my camera out of my purse and proceeds to capture the moment in eternity. Thank goodness, the majority of the pictures came out blurry due to our inability to figure out my new camera. There is one however that made it through...
Can someone please explain to me WHY I refer to her as my best friend? As the evening wears on, and I watch my friend sashay around the rink without a hitch, I am determined to get off of the kiddie rink and head over with all of the other big-girl skaters. I was so proud of myself when I left the rink after three loops with only a flushed face, sweaty armpits and a slight wheeze. That pride was soon swallowed when I grabbed my camera to get a pic of the girls, headed over to the sidelines and elegantly completed a half-twist, semi-somersaulted, slightly bowed tumble to the floor. Luckily I landed on my knee and not my camera.

Finally, the evening comes to an end. I remove my tacky, fashion-lacking men's skates to find a nice blistered area below my ankle. I hike up my jeans to assess the damage to my knee. Huh. Blue already. At least it's a pretty shade of blue. We gather up all of the little darlings, pile them into the SUV and head to my friend's house where I decline an invitation to go in and share in the slumber party festivities. On our way home however, I did point out to her that when I asked her to be my buddy for Kelsey's birthday outing, it included a weekend at the beach, sun-bathing and shopping. I politely explain that I'm thinking it's not real fair that all I came home with was a blister, a sore knee, some leftover popcorn and a little less dignity. She chuckled and got out of the car. Hmmm...off to dictionary.com to look up the meaning of "best friend".

2 comments:

Lissa said...

1. It's not you. It's the rink floor. They used to be different back "then" Plus the ugly skates do not help.

2.She still is your best friend. Remind her that BFF's buy each other feel better lunches & it's her turn:)

Vicki and Noel said...

Thank you Lissa! I think you're right! Now I don't feel so old and uncoordinated :)