I’m really not that great at snowboarding.
I whine and I complain and P. throws snow at me until I shut up and board already. The first time on the lift, I am positive I am going to slide right off and fall to my death and then when I try to get off the lift, I grab on to P. and drag him down with me and screech as I fall on my face. Then, I am positive I have forgotten everything since the last time I went and am too afraid to board down.
Eventually, I warm up and manage to get down the hill without falling and even end up having a lot of fun, but clearly, I am not that good.
Except when I go with P.’s family. I love going up with them because they make me feel like I could be on one of those Warren Miller videos. This is not because I do better tricks than they do or spin around them or jump off cliffs without dying like the boarders in those videos do. It’s just because I can stand up in my boots without falling.
I think this was my last chance to feel like a snowboarding goddess because I got the feeling they plan to never go again. In fact, I think they are secretly plotting our demise for driving them to the evil land of snow and hills. I was careful to pour my own beer, I tell you that.
But even if they’ve given up winter sports, I can still find a way to feel like I’m an extreme princess of the slopes. There’s always a toddler or two just starting out who I can feel smugly better than. At least for an hour or two until they start skiing circles around me.