Skating 'round the truth...

If it's Saturday, it must be the OFG. It seems like nearly every weekend, we are off to one corner of the state or another with a vanful of OFG girlies. I no longer desire any more children; the OFG has driven that right out of me. I now have seven extra "daughters", and on any given weekend, five of them are riding around in the back of my minivan.

Today was no exception - we had a "Prospect Party" which is an outing that is designed to show unsuspecting, er, prospective members how much fun they will have if they just join the OFG.

Twinks invited her entire Girl Scout Troop. Because apparently my child's motto is:

"Anything worth doing, is worth driving my mother crazy in the process"

We went skating. You remember skating? If you are of a certain age, "going skating" means going to a place called a "roller rink" where you put on clunky old tan-colored shoes that smell of disinfectant, and struggling NOT to fall down and disgrace yourself in front of the boy you have the BIGGEST CRUSH EVER on. I never looked like Olivia Newton-John gliding about and singing "Zanadu"; I was always the girl clinging helplessly to the rail, and praying that I could get back around to the benches before I got run over. I was cute, but I was a clutz.

So, imagine my joy when I found out that we were going *skating*. Back to the scene of some of my worst moments in Junior High and High School. Oh goody.

Oh yes, BIG fun was had by all - and for several hours, no less. Girlish screams and giggles filled the air, entire families skated together holding hands, little tots on skates that were nearly as big as they were zoomed past at supersonic speed; it was clean, wholesome, All-American fun.

You might have seen me; I was the one standing on the *carpeted* side of the rail, without skates today. I had no desire to spend my evening explaining to an ER doc why I thought I could skate at my advanced age, when I had never been able to before. So, I waved to the girls, waved to the other Mommies, waved to the families, all of whom circled the rink gracefully, and without much incident.

Even Twinks skates better than I do. This is largely due to the efforts of her elementary school gym teacher, who was determined to find a physical activity that she could do. The gym teacher knew that Twinks would never be a runner; basketball, tennis, field hockey, softball all out of the question. But skating... skating worked because The Twinkie could take her time. Wherever you are, Mrs. Williams, Thank You. Twinkle can skate beautifully because of you.

However, today Twinks pushed herself too hard, and before the afternoon was over, was in tremendous pain. She wanted to be like all of the other girls; she wanted to feel the air rush past her face, she wanted to feel graceful and light, she wanted to move with the music.

Instead, she took off her braces, put on her skates, and moved out onto the rink. She knew before she made the first turn that she was going to pay the price later, but she kept on going. She pushed down the pain just enough to keep up with her friends. As the afternoon wore on, she knew that the pain was building to the "intolerable" level, but she would not come in and sit down. She wanted the experience of being "normal" so badly that she sacrificed herself to get it.

Tonight, she's moaning and groaning in pain - even in her sleep. Tomorrow we will have to get her back up on her feet; with the braces on, it shouldn't be too bad. She will likely hurt, but not as much as she did this afternoon.

Twinks tried to skate around the truth today.

The truth blew past her, and left her clinging to the rail, helpless and exhausted.

That's the price of "normal" for Twinks.