Back from a ski weekend Kim style LOL! What is Kim Style you ask? It’s a little like Murphy’s Law meets Clark Griswald. *snort*
The hubby has been doing some major jet-setting for work and his time zones have jumped from Vancover to Hong Kong rather quickly. So, Friday when he got home, packed his bag and hopped into the car for a three hour drive to Vermont–I understood why he was a little quiet. Okay–I didn’t, but I thought I did. I assumed the poor guy was exhausted. (BTW he planned the trip LOL!) But when Murphy and Clark hang out, and they usually do at my house, interesting stuff happens. Before we even arrive at our destination, we were one man down to the flu. Or maybe it was jetlagitis. But whatever the case, the hubby was down for the count for the first 24 hours–fever and all. Boo! Which of course left us all sad, but it also left me with three kids under the age of twelve, skiing for the first time this season in a new and unfamiliar location. And we’re kind of newbies at this. This was basically our 4th time as snow monkeys (bunnies really isn’t the right word.)
Oh, the stories I could tell. Like the 7yo taking off his skis to slide down a rather steep section on his butt and then our inability to get them back on, so he just said he’d run down instead. Down a mountain, with poles flying behind him, in ski boots. Oy. And the thing is he was fast. I have no idea how he did it. ROTFL! And the other two monkeys waiting for us for so long at the bottom, and then seeing a rescue crew zooming up in our direction. Yeah–it was like that. And then there was the whole–I AM A PACK MULE thing. Where, after we salvaged the day by splitting up for lessons, everyone came back so tired they couldn’t carry all their gear. Glad I don’t have a picture of that one. Grrrrrr And then there was that moment during my lesson where I was sitting at just the right, or should I say wrong angle, while getting off the ski lift and my leg (being the perfect length) got wedged between the seat and my boot and I couldn’t get it out until the snow dropped off releasing my leg. Ouch! But, despite the ski lift trying to amputate my leg–I DID NOT FALL! Ballerina balance!
But here’s the thing about Murphy and Clark–they are great memory makers. That night, when the hubby felt well enough to go to dinner with us and grab some soup, the boys and I spent the whole night telling him all our stories and we laughed until we were crying. And it was too much stinkin’ fun. And every couple hours everyone would admire the new colors that my leg was turning. And when we took the sick-one skiing today–we had more Murphy and Clark moments. And we had some amazing ones too–like the perfect view from the top of a mountain inVermont. All those moments, good or Griswaldish, we gathered them up and took them to the dinner table where we roasted s’mores and pretty much kept saying what an awesome weekend we had. Because as we writer folk know–in the end–it’s all about the stories. They are the thing that lasts.
Does anyone else have Murphy and Clark on speed dial of it just me? And I’m back home and catching up if you need something from me–I’m doing my best while simultaneously crawling back into the revision fort. *Peeks in fort to look for Murphy and Clark*
