We put the skates back under our shoes. It’s a bit reckless of us after pushing our muscles for an hour, but we’re only very big kids and can’t resist. Dad goes first, eager to demonstrate that he’s not as bad as he used to be.
I don’t know about him, but I’ve certainly made progress.
Feeling more confident than ever before on the rink.
Maybe even confident enough to start trying some figures (I swear this is not a dab)…
Ouch. My pride is hurt, but the key is to just walk — or skate — it off.
The Stewarts Family (and other shenanigans) 