Less of a creative piece, more something that actually happened.
We had been out in the city all day, partly Christmas shopping, partly just filling up the time while my parents were down visiting. The sky was getting dark and we were all beginning to feel weary, thinking off heading home soon.
Then we approached the market square and my daughter spotted the ice rink that had been set up for the holidays. “Mama, can I go ice-skating please?” My daughter had been into roller blading a few years ago and still loved the hobby.
I agreed and we headed over to rent the skates. That was when my dad said that he wanted to have a go too. I looked dubiously at my father, who was at that time in his late-sixties. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun” He replied positively.
With the confidence that can only come from the illusion of invulnerability which the young have, my daughter immediately sped off around the rink. He was a bit less steady on his feet, but took a few test glides across the ice, didn’t fall over and felt a bit better.
He progressed slowly round the rink until he noticed that the laces of one of his boots was undone. So he made his way back round to the edge where I was standing with my Mum. He raised his leg up to the edge so my Mum could retie it while I kept an eye on my daughter. The next thing I know, a loud thud has caught my attention and I turn my head just in time to see my Dad spread eagle on the ice.
My mother is in stitches, as am I. The surprise is still plastered on his face as though he had not expected this outcome at all. He gingerly got back on his feet and made his way out of the rink, swearing that that was the last time he’d go ice skating.
“Where’s Grandad gone?” My daughter had come over to us, having missed her Grandad on her last lap.
“Off nursing his pride”