Yucaipa Town Street Roller Hockey Derby

... or "why it's important for every American to have healthcare", or, "what shall I call the street hockey equipment wing that needs to be added to my house now that we have 2 tons of stuff?" or "Now is the time to buy stock in BandAid!"

Did I mention Hubby took the kids to an ice hockey game? So, I've been battling the ol' 'can I take ice hockey lessons?' question from various small boy children for quite some time; just a disturbing gnat buzzing around every once and a while. To which I answer - and this is the 21st century momism for small children; the 'I-told-you-so' for this generation - "GOOGLE IT!" So, when the 9 year old went on the ol' Apple and got all those little dots on the map then asked me where Ontario was, I told him Canada, much, much too far to drive for ice hockey lessons. (Is that a sin?)

The question has been irritating enough for me to actually be looking forward to three boys in football four evenings a week starting at the end of July; and about three months worth of six hours jam packed with football games each and every Saturday spread all over various locations in the lovely Inland Empire. Complete with two small children in tow who can't navigate bleachers all that well yet, and really need to eat something besides Pepsi, snickers bars and nachos, the usual snack bar staples.

Then, the brown earth truck arrived (UPS to those who don't know) and instead of the usual 'OldNavyBananaRepublictheGapAthleta' box drop off, (just because I'm homebound with five kids in various stages of maturity doesn't mean I can't look good in the process), they instead left boxes from stores like 'RollerHockeyMonkey' and the like.

First there was the frantic digging in the garage for pads and the stealing of mom's roller blades by the 12 year old and the borrowing of preschool hockey sticks from the neighbor kid.

Then the neighbor dad took it up a notch and went twirling around the neighborhood on his rollerblades; impossibly lithe and graceful for someone who installs gas pipe in commercial buildings for a living.

So, hubby decided to first replace his own rollerblades (his had previously been offered to the moving gods in one of our intercontinental transits from one continent to another). Then he ordered a virtual bouquet of hockey sticks - left handies and right handies, goalie sticks etc,...

So now, instead of watching this in the afternoon:



Now there is this:



Seriously, as if we needed another reason for the neighborhood to not be pleased with us; now we have the cracking of sticks, pucks flying at 35 miles an hour, car drivers having to actually pay attention as they navigate their cars past our elbow of the street, hoots and hollers. It just wasn't enough to have two big dogs and five kids plus their friends ransacking the area.

Just yesterday evening hubby arrived home with 60 feet of PVC pipe and erected what can only be thought of as one of the Wonders of the Engineering World; two of the biggest street hockey goals I have ever laid eyes on. I'd have taken a picture, but they wouldn't fit in the camera frame. I am just waiting for the Discovery Channel vans to pull up and put us on some show about big construction.



Zach is amazed at hubby's prowess on the skates. And that he goes well beyond 7 feet tall with those wheels on. I'd get out of his way if I were you, little 9 year old.





Score!



Is that a tear?



You have much to learn little 7 year old grasshopper,..



So, hubby has all sorts of crazy ideas tumbling around in his head, like me, the old wife, and the B (mini me) donning skates and slicing a few into the ol' goal. To this I say, "HA!"

As hubby was in all honesty carrying the B around the sidewalks while she dangled her skate encased feet over the cement, I told him he was seeing a virtual time capsule: this was me as a child. Absolutely no athletic prowess WHATSOEVER. Don't opposites attract? Well, here you go. Those stories of not being able to walk and chew gum? Tripping while jogging in place? They are NOT EMBELLISHMENTS!

Yes, it's a seriously whiplashing 180 to go from three little boys who could skateboard before they could walk; Jared was riding a two wheeler by the time he was the B's age; the B can't fathom how the peddles on the tricycle work. Why do you think I enjoy horseback riding? Because something else moves for you; you just sit there and keep your heels down, back straight. I can almost handle that.

Hubby, do you remember when we lived in Newport Beach? And went to the boardwalk, a mere half a block from our apartment? And rollerbladed? And you pretended you didn't know me when I'd crash and burn? And you dragged me to Huntington Beach, invited by our friend who worked for K2 at the time, to try out new rollerblades and be totally schooled by all those bladers? And you left me clinging for dear life to light poles as I navigated down tiny slopes? Somethings can't be forgiven, even after 16 years of marriage.

Fifi on the other hand,... she's a force of nature. Too bad they don't make skates in infant sizes,...



Don't let the pink bunny helmet, diaper and white flower sandals fool you. She means business.