Well, after listening to Stitch rail at the judges for making Jeremy Abbott "lose", I packed him off for some surprise Practice Ice. Typically we hit the Public Skate on Sundays, but that had been pushed to the Studio due to a hockey game. I decided to skip that today, and good thing. The Maintenance Friend told me that it was absolutely packed. I don't like chaotic ice, it's useless to me.
The place was blessedly empty and peaceful. I love it like this. Lots of space, no loud noise, and usually only the cool people are there. We ran into Fab Skater and Coach B, chatted for awhile and then headed into the rink. Stitch kept asking, "Can I go on? How about now? Now?" It's never good when he's running up and down the outside of the boards like a penned animal.
Fab Skater was coaching, Coach B was in the hockey box with her ankle, and Coach M was there with NariNam. NariNam's Dad held me hostage for awhile talking about how "if you teach your kid skating you know they're going to have a career."
"Oh, sure, they can always Coach..." I offer, not really sure what he's talking about.
"No, they'll either be a great skater, or they'll drive the Zamboni."
There was this weird pause as I realized that he wanted me to laugh. I was actually kinda horrified. Stitch was doing his forward stroking, warming up until Coach arrived, tying her skates pretty much as she got on the ice. Hey, Nationals just got done.
Stitch worked with Coach for the first half hour, with the new music. She was getting him to try some new connecting moves and arm waving, fluffing up the existing program. I'm not a big fan of arm-waving, but Coach has some nice ways to make it work with the elements. There was some more jumping, and Stitch was doing some toepick hops with his exuberance. NariNam's Dad even commented on it. "Is he doing a routine?"
"Yeah, they're revamping the old program for another competition." I mentally reminded myself to mail that damn entry form when I went by the post office tomorrow morning.
"Oh." He sounded contemplative. "He competes?"
"Yeah, he likes it."
"Oh," he concluded. And then he goes on about his goals for NariNam's endurance, then excuses himself to the lobby.
I watch Coach and Stitch, finding myself doing toe-curls inside my shoes during the three turns. Stitch catches my grimace when he mixes up edges, and it throws him off for the rest of the program. Crap. Need to sit higher up.
In comes Mr. Valium and Gordon. Yay! Mr. Valium looks discombobulated. He throws on Gordon's Skates and then starts throwing things out of the bag, on the phone with someone. Gordon is wringing his hands and whining, as Coach starts calling for him. I hop down to "say hello."
"Music," Gordon is whining.
"Honey, you didn't pack the music," Mr. Valium is terse. "Gordon says Coach wanted music. Gordon, did she ask you for the music this time, or did she do it just now?"
"She wanted music," Gordon isn't getting the question, because it's dumb. (Tipper; You keep a copy of your competition music in your skate bag and a second copy in your Skate Mom's purse until Coach tells you to ditch it.)
So the angry phone call goes on while Gordon goes on the ice and starts skating around. "Hey," I finally speak up. "How are you guys?"
Mr. Valium looks like he wants to kill me for being so perky.
"Did Gordon have fun last Sunday?"
Mr. Valium shrugs. "I guess. I mean, he got a trophy which he liked, but he came in third. One of those other kids, he was doing things above the level..."
"Wow, that's awful," I was frantically trying to remember the skaters but all that I could bring back was that stupid song.
"Well, Coach tried to question it, but it didn't work."
"Hey, he got a trophy, that's good."
Mr Valium shrugged. "So, does Stitch do anything else?"
"No. He doesn't want to. I've asked."
"Huh. Well, Gordon likes skating, but he doesn't have a passion for it. I mean, we're not thinking about quads."
"Me neither." I smile at Stitch, who is running his program again, alongside Gordon, who for the second time is using Stitch's music to run his program. Quads? Let's do proper Bunny Hops first.
Mr Valium is quiet for a bit. "So I'm basically wasting a lesson, since he doesn't have his music."
"You're never wasting a lesson," I turn to him, but he's actually on his cell phone, arguing with Ms. Valium again.
Where did the cool people go? I sigh and watch the kids, and Stitch is dismissed so he skates to me for instruction. I start giving him orders via smartphone, and Mr Valium asks what I'm doing. "Oh, it's a sign thing," I try to explain, but Mr Valium is apparently not interested.
"We're just not here that often," he brushes it off.
Things start winding down, and the boys spend the last seconds swizzling the rink from front to back before the zamboni chases them off. Stitch's squeal as he noticed the thing backing onto the ice was priceless. Maintenance Friend would never run him down!
Coach and the Boys exit the ice, and Mr Valium tries to flag down Coach, but she makes a beeline for me. She gives me some orders to have Stitch watch some music videos, perhaps to inspire him to dance, and I agree. We talk about the disappointment that Jeremy didn't make Worlds, but it's okay. Next weekend, we're on.
I declare that we have to stop at the store for Pie, since it was such a good practice (and it's so late and Stitch hung on like a champ.) A bottle of RG wouldn't hurt, either. We come home to Dad's meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and life is good. Stitch makes some amazing faces as I tell him he has to eat some asparagus spears before having pie, but he eats them. He starts whistling "Dynamite" and from there the conversation is downhill. Eventually we're down to farting noises and it's done, but in the best way possible.
Yes, even without quads, life is good.
If this doesn't get Dynamite out of your head, nothing will.