There’s a little ski hill in the neighborhood. The rains washed much of the snow from earlier in the winter and we feared that winter recess camp might be more like a mud fest. It’s the little hill that could because, low and behold—in spite of the patchy slopes— it is teaming with overdressed children and underdressed teens with their snowboards or skis. Adele had worn me down over the past few months, begging me to let her take snowboard lessons. She’s petite for her age and can be easily missed or hit, depending on how in control those teen boarders are with all that ginseng Pepsi. I’ve been skiing on that hill with my daughters, more or less, on snowboarder alert. But she’s a mighty fine one not to let such requests lay to rest (it’s up there with getting her ears pierced; and I’m sticking to the age 12 milestone.) She intuitively knows snowboarding is the cool kids’ winter sport and is keen on the baggy, low riding snow pants and hip hop caps. What’s more—she knows she can master the sport.
It only took her 4 hours. At the end of the first day of camp, I see my purple puff of a kid surfing on the bunny hill. She didn’t see me watch her and just as well. She scooted past me onto the “Magic Carpet” and up she was pulled, with some other kids on skis behind her. (What happened to the good old rope tows and T-bars?)
“S_T_O_P N _O_W” Adele was spelling at the top of her lungs to a girl in pink named Isabelle, who was scooching her skis up close behind. I bet she doesn’t want to fall at the top and have a pair of skis up her butt, I thought. Smart kid, but she could less of a bully about it. And then down she sailed—with one topple, but right back up. I gave her the thumbs up.
I knew she was proud because she ignored me—and I caught a smile on her face. “I want to go to Big Blue!” She exclaimed. What did your instructor say? “That I had to stay here.” Well, Okay then.
She’s gonna push the envelope and I bet by the end of the week she’ll be up on the big hill. In a recent post I worried about my kids’ lack of grit in the scheme of their relatively privileged life (how many kids have a dumpy ski hill practically in their backyard?). But Adele has gumption. When she sets her mind to something and it’s worth the fight, she’ll do it.
And the exasperating thing is —I was just like her.
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