Sledding, Suburban-Style

Saturday I went sledding with some friends from Wheaton. We had a lovely day, in spite of the trials of suburban sledding. Apparently, advanced degrees and expensive SUVs make people less able to figure out the finer points of sledding on their own. Those finer points are things like:

1. trudge to the top of the hill with your sledding device
2. check carefully to assure no large obsticles lie in your path
3. sit on your sledding device and hold on as you glide down said hill

Do no be confused by the apparent simplicity of these points. Here in DuPage county they merit not one, not two, but FOUR park rangers. It was a little like a waterpark. I had to roll my eyes several times to stand the ridiculousness of it all.

I do want to share a particularly amusing observation I made while I was sitting by the fire, pretending that it was giving off enough heat to warm me up.

Because I was concerned about all the bumping and jostling upsetting my grumpy back, I volunteered to be the group photographer. Hence, I did a lot of people watching. About a half hour after my group arrived, a group of little girls, probably 10-12 years old, arrived with two moms. Not long after that, a similar group of little boys arrived with a few dads. All the kids trekked up the hill and came whizzing down, to the encouraging cheers of their respective chaperones. After 30 or 45 minutes, they started trickling back toward the adults, ready for a spell of rest before another arduous journey up the forboding Mt. Trashmore (remember; this is Wheaton. Any hill is going to be manmade...)

But here's the funny part: The soccer moms, sitting to my left, dig into their Longaberger baskets and pull out two big thermoses of hot cocoa, and bunch of little goodie bags, each with individual servings of pretzels, peanuts, and chocolate. The bags looked like party favors you might find at a baby shower or something. The girls sat down in a circle and munched and slurped contentedly away on their gourmet snack.

On my right are the boys. The start crowding around and one of the men grabs a cooler and opens it to reveal: mini bottles of water. ON ICE, no less! Which is good, because it's only about 15 degrees, and there's nothing worse than luke-warm water when you're half-frozen, I always say.

So there are the little girls at their tea party on my left, and a sprawling mass of boys, drinkin their ice-cold water and occasionally jumping on each other, to my right. I had to laugh at those people who assert that there is no difference between male and female.

Idiots.

So anyway, after everyone had all lost feeling in at least one extremity we all got pizza and came back to the warm house to thaw out and eat. Here are a couple of pictures to commemorate the day...