Last Sunday afternoon, we came up with the brainwave to take the kids skating. All three kids. In retrospect, I'm not quite sure what we were thinking or envisioning. CeCe's not even two yet, but she did have bob-skates. Ginny started with real skates, but switched to bob-skates shortly after we arrived. Jorja kept her real skates on, but was not letting go of the push-bar trainer thing. I wasn't expecting them to be
Hayley Wickenheiser and I don't think Julie wasn't expecting them to be Jamie Sale. We also weren't expecting three Bambis. I guess I don't remember learning how to skate, and now, the ice just doesn't seem that slippery. They were so excited to go and thought it was going to be so much fun. A couple of bruised butts and some tears later, I'm not sure what they thought. They did say they wanted to go again though, so that's good. The extra child to parent ratio didn't help things either. Even Ginny picked up on this. As we were driving home, she said, "We needed an extra Mom out there." I looked over at Julie and said, "She wants us to get a sister wife." Let's just say that we're not going to.
Julie's parents were up this week and we were going to go out for supper. It was decided that we would try Red Lobster. Jorja went there on a school field trip once, and decided that she liked shrimp, so we thought the kids would be alright. There's always chicken fingers. In the end, Ginny decided that she too would try shrimp. Jorja's sales pitch must have been effective. It went something like this: 'Shrimp look just like chicken Ginny. They're smaller, but they look like chicken, not the shrimp you see in the store. They're made from the pinchers on lobster claws. They crack open the pinchers and get the shrimp out and they look like chicken. Real shrimp swim around in the sea - I saw a video on it. They're really good Ginny, are you going to try some?' After that, I'm surprised we didn't all have shrimp.
It's funny how the girls' minds work differently. Jorja wanted to use something of Ginny's and Ginny asked her if she knew the magic word. "Please?" Jorja said. "No," Ginny replied. "Kitties?" "No." "Monkeys?" "No. It's butt!" And she laauughed. Goofy kid.
On Friday I took the stroller to pick Jorja up from school. We have a two seater where the smallest kid sits in front and the bigger kid can either sit at the back facing backwards or stand on a little platform facing forward. Jorja is always complaining that she never gets to go on the back of the stroller. I keep telling her that she's six and can probably walk. Grudgingly, she always does. On Friday, I decided to try letting all three ride. Ginny sat in the rear seat with her feet together, and there was still room for Jorja to stand on the platform. Off we went, and they couldn't have been more pleased. "Look, three girls in the stroller!" they said. "Yeah, and one donkey pushing them all," I said. Now to be honest, I didn't think they would embrace that concept with the fervor or vigor that they did. "Donkey! Go this way! Donkey! Faster! Donkey! Watch out for that ice!" If they had a bit of a Scottish accent, I would have thought I was in Shrek. Oh well, their not so mighty steed got them all home safe and sound. Later.