I took Sam sledding for the first time this year. We got enough snow from our storms earlier this week to open up the sledding hill in Sibley Park. Sam was excited to go because this time we were going sledding with our brand new snow tubes. We got to the hill and walked up the big hill first. Sam did his best to climb up the big hill all by himself, but a very nice girl helped him up the last 10-12 yards (I was carrying both tubes). Sam and I went to this same hill last year, multiple times in fact. So when we got to the top I was a little surprised to hear him get a nervous about going down. Sam finally climbed onto his tube and went down the hill with no problems. After Sam started down, I got on to my tube and went down after him.
And when I got to the bottom of the hill, it was at then I realized I was cheated as a child. Cheated as a child who did more than his share of sledding. If you ask my Mom she can attest I spent plenty of winter evenings sitting on my butt trying to go as fast I could go. The park behind our house on Harold Drive was great because it was so close and the hill was partially lit from a nearby skating rink (warming house too). The skating park for our house on Bryant Avenue was basically in a bowl surrounded by sledding hills.
So why was I cheated? Never in my life have I had as smooth and comfortable of a ride down a hill as I did on that snow tube tonight. Never. Ever. Period. I got all the fun of going fast, but none of the bumps, spills or butt chills from a traditional plastic sled. Sam thought it was the greatest thing ever too. He commented all night long about how he’s not getting his snow pants wet or that snow was getting in his face. In fact it was one of the first things he said when he got in the door and saw Holly.
So tonight I rectified this tragic gap in my childhood experiences.
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