If you read this post, you need to pinkie swear first that you won't call child protective services on me, kay?
* * * * *
I gave birth twice. I'm not having any more children. This kitchen is closed. So you'd think I'd want to keep the ones I have safe, right?
Just one problem. I'm Canadian. I'm culturally obligated to let my offspring participate in somewhat ... er ... unconventional activities.
Admittedly, the following story illustrates a rather bizarre way to enforce national pride. But I don't make the rules. I just live here.
So here's how we spent Boxing Day.
"Ok girls, guess what we're doing today.
We're going to get into this galvanized-steel-coffin-on-tracks (otherwise known as a snowcat)
named "Felix"
and I'm going to let your Uncle (my brother)
drive us for about an hour along 12 miles (20km)
up a vertical mile
to an elevation of 7,400 ft (2,300 m) at the top of a mountain.
When we get there he's going to use Felix to dig a huge pit in the 4' (1.2m) deep snow in about 30 seconds
and we're going to make a bonfire
so we can roast sausages & marshmallows to go with the smoked salmon sandwiches, veggies, shortbread cookies & chocolate packed for us to eat
while sitting on snowbenches,
complete with hot chocolate mug holders.
Then I'm going to let your Uncle take us waaaaay up there,
where your mom will almost s%&* herself
(Okay dude, seriously? Dude?! DUUUUDE!! STOOOOOP!!! I am SO NOT LIKING THIS RIGHT NOW!!!!!)
'cause she reeeeeally doesn't like heights.
Up here I'm going to give you an inner tube ... yep, that inflatable rubber donut that comes with warnings about "causing serious injury & even death".
That's right girls, that what it says right here in big bold letters ... SERIOUS INJURY & EVEN DEATH.
I'm going to let you sit in this human-missile-maker with absolutely no safety devices and have someone give you a big push from this spot right here
and I'm going to let you fly down the mountain
at god knows what speed
and hope you stop before you disappear over the edge.
Then I'm going to follow you on a sheet of plastic called a crazy carpet ...
... in a manner that could not POSSIBLY be less dignified.
And then we're going to do it again. And again. All afternoon.
At some point, your Aunt & I are going to think it's a good idea to share an inner tube down the mountain
and we're going to have an EPIC wipeout
and then laugh until we can't breathe.
Ok girls, you up for all that?
Good.
Now go put your helmets on. Wouldn't want you to get hurt."