We saw the yellow tape that warned us not to go down that side of the hill, and we choose to ignore it. Ken and I shared the common knowledge that twelve year old boys are invulnerable.
We jumped on our sled and raced down at Olympic level speeds. Visibility was nil. Snow was everywhere. We launched into the air and…
“You’re back,” I heard Ken say. I was lying in the snow. “Walk it off, let’s do it again.”
I did.
Twelve year old boys may be invulnerable, but I still feel the pains of my youth. Unprovoked headaches and dizzy spells are a part of my life. I have boys of my own now and I doubt they’re any smarter than I was at their age. I make them wear helmets for dangerous sports.
But if they wear them when I’m not looking, well, that’s another story.
Erik D'Souza 