Not quite. Imagine my surprise as TP and I were riding the ski lift later that day — going over one of the bigger hills — she glided beneath us. I cried cold tears, I couldn’t help it.
“You got bit by the ski bug,” I told her later.
“When can we ski again?” she asked.
But back to me — right when I got off the lift the first time, I looked down the hill and did a fast snow plow. How the heck would I get down? It probably wasn’t that steep, it just looked scary. I just stood there, with my poles digging in the snow.
Thunderpants was at my side. “Just go slowly,” he said.”Take it one turn at a time.”
It’s the same message he tells me whenever I get stuck, whether I’m in the midst of a mother-daughter conflict or stressed out about the future.