On the coldest day of the year (so far), Reid, Ken and I headed to the outdoor rink – a sheet of ice the city calls a puddle – that has been set up in the parking lot of a park close to our house. Ken hadn’t been on skates in about 20 years (yes, that means he is old but I am not) but wanted to get back into the swing of things – or at least the glide of things – since Reid is spending so much of her time on blades. Ken toughed out the pain of putting his frozen toes in the unsupportive skates and got himself over the snowbank and to the ice.
His progress was a bit slow and he didn’t look like he was enjoying it much at first. Especially when Reid and I kept asking him how he was doing and Reid wanted to hold onto his arm to “help” him. Soon enough, Ken looked like he was skating rather than being tortured – until I tried to get a group photo, anyway.
Reid glided around the ice. Her CanSkate lessons have definitely paid off.
After a bit, Ken and I convinced Reid that she should pass a puck with her dad for a while. Reid’s definition of “a while” is much shorter than what Ken or I thought it should be. She isn’t interested in puckhandling, which is a definite drawback to her hockey performance. I remind myself that she is only 6 and that training for the Olympics or the NHL would take way too much time but sometimes I want to say, “Just practice, for goodness sake.” But I don’t.