Sadly, I was not a part of this adventure. Mom and Dad went without me. I still protest every chance I get. I steal a slipper and put it into the slipper relocation program; I drink water out of glasses on the coffee table and not my water bowl all while ensuring the table gets properly soaked with spillage; I take a sock and wave it in front of Dad's face until he chases me around the house. So far these peaceful protests have not scored me a spot on the slopes, but I will not give up.
Mom told me stories of how bad she was the 1st time she tried to go down the mountain. In fact, on her 1st attempt she only went on 1 run. She was so sore. BUT, she tried again a few weeks later and got much, much better. She even figured out how to slow down without purposefully falling over and she got off the ski life twice without falling over. It was a huge accomplishment.
Mom on the ski lift. This is the part that I may have trouble with. I'm sure I would not get on a ski lift ever, even if I were allowed to given that I still won't go in an elevator. Maybe I can just race them up the mountain, I mean I do have built in snowshoes.
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