At the beginning of the year we went skiing on a mountain called Super Besse. It was a neat little ski village with lots of ski slopes. We must have lost our mind when we decided to take Brooklyn skiing for the first time when she was only 3 years old. If all the whining and crying just trying to get her from the ski shop to rent skis to the ski lifts was any indication, we should have packed up and went home right then. But alas, that was not the case.
They had two different kinds of lifts for kids, one that is a conveyor that you stand on and one a sort of pole that you hold onto. Brooklyn couldn’t hold the pole very well, but did okay on the conveyor….until she fell off. And she only fell off halfway so the conveyor was still dragging her up the hill. I was in front of her and couldn’t turn around with my skis on so Michael had to fling himself off the lift and pull her off with him.
At this point you might be wondering, “Why didn’t you put her in ski school?” Let me tell you why. Because the French are lunatics! We took chair lift to the top of the hill and about a minute into the ride I noticed there was a little kid riding with us. By himself! It was just myself, Michael, Brooklyn, and some random kid on the chair lift 30 feet off the ground! Apparently, they were putting one ski school kid on each lift going up the mountain so they could all meet at the top. Michael asked the kid how old he was and he was only 4. I can’t imagine Brooklyn, who is now four, being put up on a ski lift 30 feet above the ground by herself! No way!
So long story short, Brooklyn enjoyed the 10 second going downhill part, but the 15 minutes of waiting in line and getting on the lifts was pure torture. She didn’t enjoy all the slipping, sliding, and falling. Well actually I take the falling part back. We told her each time she fell down she got a piece of candy, so towards the end she was falling on purpose! Regardless, we’ve decided we aren’t taking her skiing again until she is 20!