Who invented skiing?

Here's a picture of my daughter going up the ski lift about this time last year. I finally gave in and took my kids skiing for the first time. I hadn't been on skis for 14 years and since my last trip involved sliding down a black diamond on my backside I was not in a hurry to repeat the experience.

But I try to be a good mom who provides a variety of life experiences for her children. So I thought I should at least expose them once to the art of flying down an icy mountain on two pieces of fiberglass. Not surprisingly, I still disliked it. To my dismay, my children adored it.

Because it was their first time, I was able to convince them to stay on the beginner hill. This actually had nothing to do with the fact that they were beginners, but rather the fact that I was not ready to go on any of the other hills. Both kids did quite well, mastered the snow plow, and didn't take out the orange fence of the ski school (a pause for my brother here). I was very happy to slowly meander down the beginner hill behind them. I like to see how long it takes me to get down - tracing wide tracks across the face of the mountain. I do NOT tuck my poles under my arms, point my skis straight down the hill, and grin like the Cheshire Cat (another pause for my brother).

My kids are asking me if we are going skiing again this year. I'm afraid I've started something I can't stop. Kind of like that feeling when you leave the top of the snowy hill. It's not just me is it? I really don't understand how flying down an icy mountain at high speeds is fun. I think I missed the gene that enjoys near-death experiences.

I do have one plan. If I take my kids skiing again, maybe they'll get so good that they can go off on the hill themselves. And then I can sit in the lodge, drink hot chocolate, and read books about people who have near-death experiences.