Skates on the front porch. Several times a week I move them inside, only to find them outside again. I know the culprit. A pretty little brown hair girl who gets in trouble when mom sees her skating in the house. (This mom might be a little more lenient if she hadn't already witnessed marks on the floor and a big gaping hole in the wall from a rubber stopper that didn't quite stop in time.)
Knowing how Kira practically lives in her skates, it only made sense to sign her up at the local ice skating rink, thanks to a Groupon that came to my inbox. She went to her first lesson on Wednesday, although I have to admit we didn't think things through completely. As we were heading toward the front door of the rink, I noticed all these kids walking up in sweatpants, jackets and even winter coats, despite it was almost 80 degrees that afternoon. And what was Kira wearing? Shorts and a t-shirt. Do I at least get points for remembering socks? We quickly jumped back in the truck and raced home, grabbing some long pants that she hurriedly put on while I raced back.
Once she arrived and put on her skates, I was anxious to see how she did the first time she set foot on the ice. Is it ok for this mom to say that she amazed me? She may have had one little wobbly episode at first, but after that you would never know it was her first time ever to ice skate.