MEDIC!

It's the feeling you get when you watch a baby teetering by the edge of the pool. It's the way you feel as you grip the seats in the back of a New York City taxi in midtown. It's exactly how I feel every time I see Simon on his roller blades.

Apparently, Europeans haven't gotten the message that roller blades are cheesy and they continue to sport them with complete self confidence, along with their tight jeans and unbuttoned shirts. After seeing so many of them in the park down the street Simon was sold that it was a great idea and something that we needed to get involved in immediately. So I got some while I was in New York, hoping to help satisfy his unfulfilled childhood dream. I guess kids in Chicago didn't think it was fun to roller blade against the 50 mph wind in the sleet. Us Arizona kids did the roller blade thing in junior high, but then got it out of our systems as soon as we turned 16 and had to be cool at all costs. And we learned that cars are much better.

If you've ever seen Simon you can probably imagine why this idea makes me nervous. He had never been on roller blades before so he didn't know how to shift his weight or bend his knees. He looked kind of like a walking Frankenstein. He was dubbed "Top Heavy" by his basketball coach. And on his blades, his cranium is like 7 feet away from the ground. So when he falls, he falls hard. I told him that he had to get a helmet and pads before he could go again. And he tried to reason with me that he was a college athlete and for some reason thought that was somehow related to our situation. But no. And to the store we went for some protection. And it was just in time too.

Everything was all fine and dandy as you can see here. Yes he looks like a dork. But a relatively safe dork. And I was pleased.

There was one time where I tried to save Simon from a fall in a volleyball game. But the sheer logistics of it are mind boggling. Kind of like a hamster trying to catch a cat. There is no way that I could support his massive weight falling to the ground, without being crushed in the process. And I definitely couldn't do it on roller blades. Anyway, the inevitable happened and gravity won against Simon. He was going pretty fast down a hill and never learned how to stop or slow down. But he soon learned how to skid. His whole arm was scraped up and his elbow had some deep gashes in it. Some English woman offered us a "plaster" and I had no idea what she was talking about. I was assuming she was crazy and she was assuming I was a stupid American tourist. She was closer to being right.

We slowly rolled home, bloody and woeful. Simon cleaned up while I left to go buy some bandages, or "plasters" as I learned was the correct name for them. When I got back Simon was strewn across the couch like a half naked wounded soldier and this is the scene I encountered on the counter.

Slightly dramatic? Yes, probably. But he got back on that horse and roller bladed the very next day. Simon will not be defeated.