Having finally recently mastered the art of riding a bicycle, Mini-Pear discovered this pair of hand-me-down skates in the dwindling box of "clothes to be grown into". It seems we've hit some point where we're not on anyone's radar anymore with regard to outgrown clothing. Actually, I take that back. We're not getting any clothing for Mini-Pear, but Mr. Pear's co-worker's wife is pregnant with her third child (first girl), so she sent Mr. Pear home with enough baby boy clothes for this baby* to wear a different outfit every single day for the first year of his life at least. Very handy, since you all know how much I hate the shopping.
You know, it's not so much how I hate the shopping as how inept I am. I wrote recently about a disappointing search for maternity clothes. My mother, who needs no excuse to shop, immediately took this on as a project. She arrived with a complete summer wardrobe for me. Would you believe that everything fit, with the exception of one pair of shorts which felt just slightly too snug around the waist? I mean, here I go into a shop, with the actual body in need of clothing, try a million and one things on and none of it fits, and all my mother seems to need to do is hold it up on the hanger and squint at it. It's been years since clothing me was her responsibility and as I've waxed and waned considerably in this time, I find this no small feat.
But this is about Mini-Pear and skating, isn't it? She started out awkwardly clomping around the back patio large before discovering that concrete paving stones separated by 2" wide avenues of pebbles are not the best surface for skating. Now she awkwardly clomps along the sidewalk - decidedly less awkward when someone (in this case, it's her granddaddy) agrees to pull her along. I made the mistake of telling her how fast one can go down a hill when all tucked up like a little egg. She immediately crouched into the position and shot down the driveway towards the street. I saved the day by shoving her into the flower bed. She probably has a different opinion about that one...
* Oh hey, yeah, it's a boy!
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