We are fortunate that the calls we’ve received from ski patrol over the years were not due to major injuries. A vomiting child. A fainting spell in line for the gondola. And now….
Last weekend, the call came just as we were about to order a late lunch. Apparently, our ten-year-old was being brought down the mountain in a toboggan after a ski school injury to his ankle.
Or somewhere on his foot?
Maybe his leg?
His ride from China Bowl to ski patrol led him to the opposite side of the mountain from our lunch spot. So, I raced to get him. A gondola ride down with a group of hilarious women who claimed to “apres ski all day” and complained of a daughter-in-law who doesn’t ski because “all she does is sit around eating hamburgers.” Then a jaunt from that base to the next, where ski patrol was holding him.
The ski patrol dudes were lovely and patient. He wouldn’t let them take his boot off. “I would bring him back to the condo, put his feet up, and if he is still in pain tomorrow, take him for an x-ray. You know kids though. They’re fast healers.”
He didn’t exactly wink at me, but I knew.
A bus ride back to the base where we parked with the little guy performing a dramatic limp that actually put more weight on the injured ankle than the healthy one.
“Was the ride down scary or fun?” I asked, distracting him as I slid off his red ski boots.
“Well,” he winced between words, “it would have been really fun if I wasn’t in pain.”
Sneakers on. A slow walk to get mom some food. As we passed the skating rink, he brightened up…
“Can I go skating?”
Ankle? Foot? Leg? Where’d that crazy limp go?
Such a fast healer.