Stitch was momentarily distressed when Coach called him in for a few minutes of mini-lesson, but I assured him that 1) I didn't know that would happen, 2) that he should be honored by a Coach that gives him free lessons and 3)I'd speak to her about our agreements off the ice. (I caught her after Public skate and told her why Stitch was so angry. Coach rolled her eyes at the notion of a "play day," but agreed to honor them anyway.) Then Darling showed up and all distress was forgotten.
We met Darling over the summer. She's Stitch's age, about the same skating level, instructed by her dad, and just one of the most adorable girls ever. Shirley Temple in marabou Riedells couldn't out-cute this girl. She and Stitch really hit it off, and they pal'ed around the rink from June to August. Once fall came, she went back to her Dad in some other state, with promises to return every so often. Today was Stitch's lucky day. Darling was back.
Darling and Stitch raced around, harassed the Guards, hit the concession stand for candy and ice cream, and went to center where she, Stitch and PrepSchool jumped and cavorted and spun in cute games of daring and skill. PrepSchool, who lately has a stack of "practice cards" of some sort (which just wasn't going to happen on a crowded day like today) left to go try and get some work done. Stitch then coaxed Darling to join him in his "interpretive dance," as Hockey Pal likes to call it. They danced for a half hour, but in my mind I was watching something better than Meryl and Charlie.
I was sitting in the stands, watching and thinking, "My god, I could dress them as Dorothy and Scarecrow, put on 'We're off the see the Wizard,' and they wouldn't even have to skate. The judges would just hand them the damn trophy." This is just further proof that I am not in charge of the skating. Stitch would never allow this, and Darling would just give me a look.
Oh well. In other news, the entire Nutso clan has traded in their moonboots for real Figger' Skates. "Wants to play Hockey," my ass.
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