Ice Capades, We Were Not

Saturday afternoon, following swim lessons, Laura and I set a goal to get the boys as absolutely wiped out and tired as we possibly could. I had plans to go to a show that night, and we thought that by running those two ragged, we could ease Laura's solo management and lower resistence levels to bedtime.

While the plan was nice in theory, in practice, it didn't really prove to be an effective strategy. However, it didn't keep us from enjoying some family time together ice skating!

Laura and Jack went skating together once last year, or the year before, and here she is giving him some helpful reminders.

Laura bravely takes both boys on the ice while I maintain my wuss status and document the adventure from afar.

Into the breach: I don ice skates for the first time in well over 20 years. My first, and only other time attempting to skate, I thought I'd twisted my ankles into pretzels and vowed never to do it again. Funny what domestication coupled with empathy for your significant other as she struggles to help your offspring enjoy themselves will do to a man. Isn't that what the look on my face, below, says, too?

Above and below: cute and cuddly. The boys look OK, too.

See, now this is much better...we did actually thoroughly enjoy ourselves. My real complaining only started as I tried to wrangle Kian out of his skates and then keep him nearby as I struggled out of mine, all the while sitting on the floor in front of our rented locker while a gaggle of pre-teen girls munched crappy snack bar delectibles and stared at the rage that hotly simmered beneath the surface of my countenance.

(K)