One Sunday morning in mid Jan, Buzz wore her ski boots, stumbled her way through putting them in her skis, tried going down a bunny slope, fell, complained, tried again, cribbed, repeat and repeat some more.
One Sunday morning at end of March, Buzz wore her ski boots, clicked them into her skis confidently, went on the quad chair lift, up the big cliff (the easy green lifts are for kids after all), came down a bumpy slope with ease.
The same Sunday morning, Bugz wore little ski boots, broke Maa’s back while trying to put on the littlest skis ever, a few simple instructions followed and she came down the bunny slope, with full confidence, right in to Maa’s waiting hands.
The same Sunday, around 4:00 P.M., Buzz came down the slope making a big snake along with her class and all the other classes taking lessons. Parent cheered, bells rang, claps and shouts, cameras flashed, pride so high on those slopes that you could almost see it.
10 weeks went by before we realized. The progress Buzz made was beyond words. The joy Bugz showed worth 100. D can’t stop gushing over his little ones’ and planning endless trips to the mountains, of course. As for me, I started my journey one Sunday morning in mid Jan with one kid on the bunny slope and ended it one Sunday morning at end of March with the other kid on the same bunny slope.
We all gladulated as a family, don’t you think, even when only one of us got a certificate to prove it.