Monday, January 31, 2011

I Hate Sledding: or thanks to global warming, now I’m the bad guy?

Here’s the deal: sledding, like ice skating, or apple picking or trick or treating, is something I do exactly once a year. It is a terrifically fun activity but only if every instance of it is separated by roughly 11 months. If I have to go sledding more frequently than that, I get cranky. I thought EVERYONE felt the same way about this. But, no, now it appears that people genuinely enjoy sledding which leads me to believe that perhaps something is terribly wrong with me.

Its all global warming’s fault. Snow should be something which falls all at once in a big blizzard, about twice a year. But thanks to the world heating up, I guess we’re just going to have to get used to it snowing all the freaking time now. If you want to hear the myriad reasons this excessive snowfall annoys me, they are plentiful and persuasive. But I’ve just discovered another reason I hate the increase in snowfall which is that people are constantly inviting me to go sledding.

When I was picking Sec up from school we asked her friend if she wanted to play and the friend’s babysitter said, “Oh, we’re going sledding, Do you want to come?”

I all but yelled, “But we did that ALREADY!”

It is exactly like when I tell Sec to go to the bathroom before bed and she says “But I just did peepee YESTERDAY!”

Except that, unlike sledding, one HAS to urinate on a regular basis.

Look, don’t get me wrong. I LOVE being invited to do stuff (and when I’m not , I bitch about that) but I just end up feeling like a royal Scrooge, a real Grinch whenever I demur and that doesn’t jive with the way I like to see myself, lover of adventure and brimming with joie de vivre.

The main reason I’m so sledding-averse is that I’m really lazy, and getting to Prospect Park involves a thirty minute tromp through the snow, straight uphill. Not only am I lazy, but my children are as well, and after a block of jubilant shrieking and running, they instantly become exhausted and collapse in the snow. In order to get them to the park, I then have to drag them, stick them on my back or pray fervently to God. Getting there, and getting back, is just no fun at all.

So the next time someone invites me to sled, I’m going to reply, “No thanks. But if you want to join US, we’ll be wandering around outside our building, making ineffectual snowballs, eating handfuls of the build-up, and rolling around on the snow-covered ground like a bunch of drunkards. No hill required.”