If there was ever a post that deserved action photography it’s this one: M’laddos first trip sledging on a vintage West Germany sledge. But their aren’t any. He was just too darn fast and my heart was just too darn in my mouth for most of it.
We don’t own a sledge but thanks to the Little Garden Helpers posse, we borrowed a sledge they had acquired from the rather excellent Freecycle and went with them to bomb down some rad slopes in the park. At least I think that’s what the youth of today do, I may be a tad out of date on my terminology, come to think of it.
The two youngsters were dutifully and paternally towed to the park en sledge, and there was much excitment at this point. M’laddo was generating a considerable amount of heat, even in the snow as he was wrapped up in one of these buggers, an all in one snow suit that allowed him to do a bit of off piste body boarding once or twice. Unfortunately Little Garden Helper number one wasn’t so snugly wrapped up and got a bit cold.
So anyway, we were at the top of the hill with about 40 other parents at this point, looking down a slope I’d think twice about- I’ve ski’d down stuff steeper but not by much- when M’laddo makes his will known. He shall go down the slope very fast, on his own, like Spiderman would. I’m baffled how he knows whether spiderman would chose the solo option on a sledge because at this point in his short thus far life, his only run ins with spidey have come via a pair of fingerless gloves and an spiderman branded electric toothbrush. My comtemplations were cut short however by the insistence on a speedy departure.
I was comforted by a random mother standing next to me who said, “Don’t worry, at that age they bounce anyway.” She was in turn comforted by the fact it wasn’t her child hurling himself down a near vertical slope at the tender age of two and a half.
Worry ye not though dear readers! It all went well! I ran down behind the sledge as it disappeared off apace. When I eventually caught up with it, M’laddo turned around and shouted “More!” until his breath ran out. And there was more. And more, and then some more, until fingers and toes begun to burn from the cold and we needs head back for warmth and food.
Hurrah for the blessed snow!