We All Fall Down

Drama ruled last Sunday, as Daniel joined Mom, Dad and the big kids for our first all-family ski runs of the season. After the usual trauma of getting a pole-less five-year-old up the faint hill and through the lift line, we had difficulties with the lift assist and the lift dismount. No one was hurt, but a ski pole lost its life in the process.

Our first greens were so easy and slow that Daniel could not get enough momentum to finish, especially with a biting, stiff wind in his face. After frozen fingers thawed in the lodge, we embarked upon slightly more difficult greens where D could practice his turns and actually make it through a run without multiple parental pushes or big sister pole-pulls.

Prematurely flushed with his success (and the aforementioned wind), we went up the mountain to longer, tougher green and green-blue runs. Alas, we took a wrong turn and ended up on a pure blue slope. I unwisely let Rob have Daniel to himself, taking my turn to ski down with William, and watched as chaos ensued on the snow. Daniel forgot his turns in his fear of the steeper slope and started careening down the hill. Rob forgot logic and attempted to corral D by skiing right next to him. This maneuver was promptly followed by Daniel skiing right over Rob's tips and causing them both to crash hard - Rob right on top of the little guy.

I missed the next part, but Rob filled me in later that night; Daniel started screaming at the top of his lungs, "Call 9-1-1! Call 9-1-1! I need a hospital! Oh, my arm, my arm!" Well, we have never heard him say that before so Rob was terrified, and promptly lifted him up and skied him down the mountain. Aden brought extra skis and poles to me, and we followed in a motley and sad parade.

Turns out that our youngest was fine. The ski patrol / health clinic checked him out and pronounced him whole after their inspection produced nothing but tickles and giggles. Daniel got a package of Oreos out of it, and his parents got a few more gray hairs. Next time . . . lessons!