I am a Poor Role Model

While Stitch did not have early morning lessons, I did agree to sell his old skates to a Pre-Alpha kid taking an early class. So I dragged a grumbling and irritable Stitch out the door and to the rink for a quick ten bucks. I brought breakfast with us, and after my business was done I headed into the big rink to sit with Stitch and watch the Power and Flow or Something class. We ate and watched the bigger skaters skip and the not so big skaters try to skip on the ice. On the ice was one of Stitch's "rival" skaters. I use the term loosely, but this is one of those kids I can't stand. He was with the lower end skaters, as he should be, trying back crossovers super fast. Too fast, and to a rhythm. Other Kid nailed the wall, backwards. I laughed, I just couldn't help it.

You know those wooden toys you had as a kid, where you push the bottom and the bones fall out, and the animal or doll on top collapses into a jointed heap? That was this kid, only nailing a wall. Backwards. And then he did it again. I was trying so hard not to laugh too loud, but damn it was hard. Stitch of course noticed what I was laughing at, and then it became a game. We were snorting and giggling and this kid just kept doing near misses or full on bodyslams into the boards. Backwards.

And after that was over, they were doing some other moves that caused this kid to collapse onto the ice into a gangly mess, blades and limbs and snow everywhere. It was too much. I was about to leave, when the kids began to exit the ice and I was finally safe from being an embarrassment to myself. Then, as though to offer a salvation to the other skaters and a parting gift to me, Other Kid did a lame waltz jump attempt on his way out the door. What the hell was that all about? I shook my head and put skates on Stitch.

I open up the bag of gloves and stuff, and the smell of mildew about overpowers me. "Oh, god, I need to wash all this."
"Why," asks Stitch.
"Smell that glove."
"YECCHHH!!" he makes a face and laughs.
"Take the black ones, they don't smell as bad."
He smells a black one. "YECHHH!!"
"Well, you don't smell the gloves during class anyway. Okay, mid-term evaluations so skate your best, okay?"
"Again?"
"Yeah. It's okay, just do your best."
"But these gloves have holes," he holds up his hand. "You expect me to skate like this?"
"YES. Just GO."

So I shipped him down to the ice surface and I retreated to the stands, which I renamed Land of Forgotten Siblings. I beaded and watched for trouble points with Stitch; the power 3, actually doing crossovers and please do honest attempts at Shoot the Duck and not just fall down for the hell of it. Stitch was skating well, so for the most part I was relaxed and getting a lot done. (I am in bead heaven with this vest.)

There was a mom next to me with a tot, and of course she had a purse stuffed with toys and things for tot to play with while they waited for the Sibling to get done. This is a Boy Tot, so of course all his toys involve wheels and projectiles. What happens to a wheeled toy at the top of a flight of Stairs? Right. So Wheeled Toys are going sailing down the steps, and me, still giddy from watching Other Kid bodyslam repeatedly, start laughing. This sets off Tot, who sends another toy flying down the stairs. Other Mom shoot daggers at me, "That's not funny, Nate (or whatever his name was, but she's clearly speaking to me.) NOT. FUNNY."

Yes it is. I bite my lip and keep beading. "I'd get up," I say. "But once I get settled with the beads, it's hard."

"I'll get them, it's fine," she continues to glare and be passive aggressive. "Yes, Nate, MOMMY WILL GET THEM."

I try not to laugh because I'm sure if I do I'll get a Thomas Train where the sun doesn't shine.

Other Mom then takes the wheeled toys away, which sends Tot into a crying fit. This is clearly being made out to be my fault, as Other Mom keeps glaring at me every now and then. I'm positive this crying child is creating a distraction but I think Other Mom is keeping him around to make some kind of stupid statement.

Okay, murder in the stands notwithstanding, Stitch is doing okay. He's mostly paying attention, sometimes drifting off into neverwhere while the Interim Coach is explaining things and getting them to do their tests. He may hate lessons, but he does pretty good at them today. I finish up a thread and decide there's not enough time to start a new one, so I pack up and just watch the last ten minutes. Stitch is doing Waltz 3's I think, sometimes two footing them but he's getting better at height.

Other kids start coming off the ice so I head down. Stitch comes off and hands me his paper, and again it looks good for mid session. "I think you may pass this one, kiddo. You got a seven on the backwards glide thingie."
"Ugh," says Stitch. "I won't pass."

Other Kid walks over to us as we're packing it up. "Hey! I learned a Toe Loop today!"
I want to laugh so bad, but I hold it in. "Oh yeah? How does that one go?"
"Well, you three turn, and put your toe in, and jump, but you *blahbittyblahblahblah something about toes* and that's a toe loop," he's talking and all I can see is him going backside first into the penalty box.
"That's great. You'll have to show me sometime," I bite my lip, begging him to please go away.
Stitch is just drying his skates, looking annoyed. "Mom. Are we done here?"
"Hey, flea market today! Let's go!" Did I mention I'm an Aquarius?

We drop off the skate bag in the car and hit the flea market. I score some sewing patterns on the cheap, and an old sewing kit in a roll up case. I bought it to knock off the design and make more from all the scrap fabric I have lying around. Stitch bought a wallet, which ironically he didn't have any money to put in after he bought it.
"You need to learn to haggle," I said on the way out.
"I'm going to put my credit card in this slot," he points. "And my driver's license in this one."

Whatever.

I had some errands to run after skating. The earlier time is much more convenient, I can actually get stuff done on a Saturday again. I decide that his good behavior while I bought pants and that Seven on his mid-term earned a new comic book, so we dropped by the Comic Book store where he picked out a new Simpson's and a new Series, "The Amulet." Looks pretty good, I'll have to read it myself.

And I washed all the gloves and stuff. Maybe I need to rethink keeping all that in a Ziplock bag.