J brought home a hand-me-down skateboard this past weekend, more for Jedi than anyone else. And with it I realized just how much things have changed.
When I was younger, high school years, I really liked skater boys. I’d watch them flip their boards around, not really paying much attention to the tricks they could do. I do remember never thinking they’d fall and get hurt, or maybe that was part of the attraction. Not once did the phrase “be careful” cross my mind.
As Jedi took his first wobbly attempt at balance on his skateboard, that was ALL I could think about.
Since it was already dark outside by the time J got home, they practiced on the hardwood floors of our hallway. It was a short and unsteady spin around our house. For my oldest son, the cautious one, who still won’t ride his bike for fear of falling, it was enough to feel like Tony Hawk. I, on the other hand, envisioned crushed bones and busted heads or broken windows.
“Shouldn’t he wear a helmet?”, I implored my husband, certain that I never contemplated helmets as a teenager.
“We’re inside,” he said in turn.
“I know you’re inside, that didn’t answer my question.”
Then, when all that was left was the simple task of stepping off, that’s when the skateboard got out from under Jedi’s feet and he fell with a chaotic thud. Thankfully, he got right back up and wanted to go again, but my nerves were already shot. Has anyone invented that bodysuit of bubble wrap yet?