I'll Roller Blade You!

Yesterday

Walking to the lake I came across a mob of children. Children in mobs, as you can imagine, do not know how to proceed in a linear fashion and enjoy dilly daddling around the sidewalk in no hurry to get to their final destination—which sounds beautiful in theory, but is awful to encounter in person, especially when there is a big chunk of them in the way.

Anyhoo, in this group two of the boys were on rollerblades. Rollerblades. Now, what mother in their sane mind believes it appropriate or even half-way safe to put wheels on 10 year old boys’ feet? And who was in their sane mind to invent wheels on shoes? Sure they’re great on bikes and work decently well on automobiles, but do we need them on the bottom of our feet? Don’t most humans have a hard enough time walking properly to begin with? Do they need extra encouragement to proceed down the path of destruction and pain?

Because that is exactly what happened to this ten-year old child. He didn’t quit know how to blade in the rollers and was more stomping the ground like an angry meek monster than moving at any type of flowing pace. He saw me coming. But there was a mob remember and I couldn’t exactly move out of each and every one of their ways. They were coming AT me I tell you. And, of course, he fell down, right on his elbows. It was rather an eloquent thump to the ground and he didn’t even cry, he was stunned, and I believe slightly embarrassed. I just looked at him like he was crazy and attempted to keep walking as if I didn’t see it, but the mob just stopped in its path. They were frozen, starring at a friend lost to the dooming antagonistic sidewalk.

The “grown-up” of the group (obviously not grown-up enough as to allow ten year old boys to put wheels on their feet) ran over to reassure, protect, and comfort him. It was one of those philosophically brain numbing events where I play it back in my head over and over thinking how rude I was to just watch him fall and not even ask if he was okay; but then again I don’t like children.

They frighten me, the worst thing would have been if we had to have a conversation and if that conversation led him to wanting to be my BFF. Or if he would have said it was all my fault because he saw me right before he fell, then the “grown-up” would try to sue me, when all I was doing was trying to go to the lake and get a little fucking relaxation, which alas can never happen because to get to the lake I have to walk by hooligans with wheels on their feet or homeless people who want 50 cents for a hamburger, for which I wouldn’t give for multiple reasons besides the fact that I never have 50 cents on me when I’m going to the lake for the very reason so I don’t have to give my money to homeless people and so I can’t feel bad about it because I don’t have it on me. Whoo.

And so that is what happened yesterday.

Oh and speaking of rollerblades, the other day when I went for a walk, another woman thought it was a good idea to put her 4-year-old boy in rollerblades, never mind the fact that he could barely walk or keep his pants above his ass. Plus she had to push him as she was holding him upward; it was in every sense of the word awkward.