8I have full journals documenting, in detail, the heart and panic attacks this kid’s given me from the time of his conception, in Paris, until the last entry, last Sunday on the highway home from Lake Louise when he announced his intention of becoming a double black diamond trick skiing athlete, first in the world. His volumes are significantly more colorful than his larger halfling sisters.
You will probably read many such anecdotes about my minion, halflings and sidekick, Mr. Clark; the focus of this post will be my perfect youngest son, with smatterings of Mr. Clark as it pertains to the movement of the story.
My incident reports for this kid; “The Book of Recrimination”, will likely be in it it’s third unpublished volume by the time he reaches the age of majority. Shortly thereafter, I’ll publish all my journals, for some well documented public revenge and the best damn therapy money can buy. The worries and really strange life experiences they’ve given this writer to work with is enough to make even Mr. Gaiman nauseous.
Mr. Pants III is in his eighth year of skiing at Lake Louise; Mr. Clark, who is actually a skiier has tried over the years to expose our children to all the wonders of the RCR and all the winter recreation our great province has to offer.
For example, December 9the we’re scheduled to have a family cross-country ski lesson through the University of Calgary. I haven’t cross country skied since I was 14 dear Readers. Mr. Clark has pointed out that we do have a #threebiterule in our family and “if I’ve only taken one bite of cross-country skiing, what would the children think?”. I have taken 8 bites of downhill skiing and have never found a taste for the terror.
The #threebiterule is one I’d like to expound on in the future but for now, I would like to get back to my narrative.
My eldest female halfling goes to #skilouise when she’s not broken herself or isn’t forming her plot to take the world back from Mr. Trump with her younger halfling sister/sidekick.
Mr. Pants wrote and danced to jig on the first day it snowed this year, in fairness he’s a fairly excitable lad. Other popular jigs by Mr. Pants include but are not limited to:
- “Blue and I aren’t good at hiking.”
- “Albert, my crazy smart fish”
- “Albert, you will get your Victoria soon”
Mr. Pants starts asking to return to his mountain spawning grounds, the place where all Clark ski bunnies hanker for whenever there’s even a threat of snow. This summer, Mr. Clark got me with the damn #threebiterule least once in the summer; seeing all his favorite runs “naked” was on his bucket list. Hopefully, I’m not the only one aware of the unhealthy pattern developing here, generationally.
It seemed after the 2016 ski season closed we had completed our moral duty to our offspring, as parents; beating that kid at his energy game and putting him to bed soundly. All summer, he swore he was as good at skiing as wanted to get, all lies.
Since his father discovered that there’s a level 5 & 6 with the Bow Valley Summit Riders at Lake Louise, Mr. Pants has been counting the days from registering for the day he joined his level 5 lesson group “K is for Krazy”. He needed to complete the initial recon visit to make sure it would yield good videos, sufficient to scare the lady bits out of his poor mother, that’s when the announcement of his future career happened, without preamble.
My little nugget of skiing mom knowledge that I’d like to pass on to you this week is here:
“You find that weird thing you can do better than anyone; do the crap out of that, Mr. Pants.”
This dear Reader is what got me through the first really tough nine years with one, hybrid Clark. He is my danger baby; loving everything fast, dirty, high, loud and most importantly dangerous, in no particular order. He’s an imp, just like his father with my saint-like ability to remember everything he cares about, forever; my youngest minion; my space between “Always” and “Remember”.