Sledging the commuters gets a chilly reception

So, I got on the bus with the sledges and was waiting for my girlfriend to get on at her stop on the way,” says Eldest Child, “and I was thinking ‘this is going to be a great day!’ and I was happy. But after a while I realised everyone else getting on the bus was going to work and looking miserable and I started to feel a bit embarrassed, standing there with the sledges.”

The “Now that I’m an adult” hangs in the air unsaid.

“Well, your college was closed,” I say sympathetically. “So it’s not like you were skiving. And why shouldn’t you enjoy the snow? Why should kids have all the fun? Grown ups should get to sledge too. We all should.” “Yeah.” “Fun isn’t just for kids. Adults need to have fun in their lives too,” I say. “Yeah!” “So which sledge did you use?” “The blue one. She had the red one ‘cos it matched her wellies.” “Perfect.” “So she won most of the races, ‘cos it’s faster, the red one.” “Sounds like fun.” “Yeah, it was. So fun. And that’s why, when I was on the bus with the sledges, I stopped feeling embarrassed, and started to feel proud.” “Proud?” “Yeah, proud of myself that I’ve managed to avoid a lifestyle where I have to be going to work when it’s a snowy day and I could be out sledging. That I’ve managed to not be a schmuck.”

“Right.” He’s lost me with ‘schmuck’. Sympathy for the loss of his childhood over. My sense of fun has just melted like snow off a dyke.

“The only reason you’re able to not be a schmuck,” I say, (indignant, and no doubt sounding like a total schmuck), “is because you’ve got a schmuck who does have to go to work every day, a schmuck who doesn’t get to go sledging on a weekday and who therefore enables your non-schmuck lifestyle.”

“Yes, that’s true,” he says. “Fair point. Thank you.”

It’s snow fun (sorry) when he’s reasonable. n