One of MamaKat's Writer's Workshop prompts for this week was to tell about a childhood birthday...
When I turned 7, I got a pair of roller skates. Not the kind you wear at the skating rink, with the boots attached... no, these were the outside, shiny metal kind that fit over your sneakers and locked with a key... you remember the old song, right? The annoying one that gets stuck in your head... "I got a brand new pair of roller skates, you got a brand new key"... yeah, that one. Anyway, they were way cool and I loved them.
We lived in the city and the sidewalks were very uneven and hard to skate on, but there was a fire station around the corner from our house and they had newly poured concrete drive, perfect for skating. So I headed around there with my friends and skated my heart out for while, with the kindly firemen looking on and catching us before we hit the ground (remember, this was before kids skated with helmets and knee/elbow pads). Then I got the bright idea to skate up the hill next to the firehouse and roll back down. Sounds like fun, right? Well, when I got up there, I realized I'd be skating straight into traffic and there was no way to stop on those skates, really... you pretty much had to run yourself into a stationary object, or fall down (neither of which was appealing). So I sat down to remove my skates. I got one off and then started to work on the other buckle... while the first skate rolled down the hill... straight off the curb... and into the sewer drain.
Those firemen, bless their hearts, worked for the better part of an hour, trying to fish it out. But alas, my shiny silver birthday skate was lost forever. I was sad. And I had to wait a whole year before I could skate with wheels on both feet again.
The moral of this story? Don't skate up hills unless you have thoroughly planned your safe descent. And only take your skates off on level ground and NEVER near a sewer drain. Good advice, don't you think?