Do you know how many birthday parties I’ve taken Chooch to since he started school?
I turn into a social cripple when it comes to being a Mom, so I always make Henry take Chooch to his classmates’ parties.
Except this last one. I was able to speak casually to this particular kid’s mom at Chooch’s cat party a few weeks ago, so when I saw that her son was having his party at Romp-n-Roll, I was like, “Eff yes I’ll escort my son to this shindig.” Clearly, I wanted to roller skate in a bad way. Plus, I didn’t feel awash with those typical overwhelming tidal waves of anxiety which usually happens when Chooch brings home a birthday party invitation.
I think I am somehow accidentally fixing myself but I’m not sure how I’m doing it…?
I was pretty stoked because I’ve only been to the Romp-n-Roll to spectate roller derby bouts, and never to actually skate. Since I am donezo with the Neville Roller Drome (not a fan of the new owners/homophobia/religious agendas), I’ve been wanting to try this place on for size.
We pretty much lost Chooch as soon as we got through the door because one of his girlfriends from school was behind us. I don’t think he spoke to me once after that until we were in the car going home. I SEE HOW IT IS.
It’s more expensive than the other rinks we’ve skated at, but it turned out to be well worth it. Aside from a slight skate issue which had Henry holding his breath because god forbid I should lose my shit at the roller rink for the billionth time of my life. What will the parents think, oh no!? Instead, I took my skates back to the counter and VERY POLITELY asked if I could have a different, taller pair. And the nice man exchanged them for me without the need to get anyone else involved! Henry was totally stunned when he saw me a few minutes later, wearing different skates that he didn’t even have to lace for me! (Don’t get too excited; he put the first pair of skates on for me.)
Even after that though, as soon as the wheels hit the rink’s surface, the wheels started pulling the skates inward and I was basically skating like how whimsical twee bloggers pose (ie. PIGEON-TOED), but instead of being a bitchbaby, I just made a conscious effort to force my feet apart, and it was fine. Henry was having the same problem with his skates too so at least I know I wasn’t just Being Erin about it.
The first thing I noticed, aside from the on-the-ball skate rental guys and the Trapper Keeper-like carpet, was that they were playing a good mix of music. In addition to the classic rock, oldies, and Top 40 on rotation, they actually played Fall Out Boy’s “This Ain’t an Arms Race” and Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf,” YES PLZ.
“They play good music here!” I yelled in Henry’s face after I caught up to the veritable Opie Griffith-on-skates. Aaaaand just like that, cue Nickelback.
But whatever, I can forgive them.
Meanwhile, Chooch had laced up and took to the floor to show off for his little girlfriends. I noticed that there was girl in particular he wouldn’t leave alone. She was hugging the wall, and he was skating at a slow pace next to her. Anytime she would fall, he would quickly circle back and wait for her to stand up. For some reason, I thought she was a relative of the birthday boy because I’ve never seen her before.
“That’s Hailey!” Henry laughed when I pointed her out. Have I told you about Hailey? Well, she is pretty much the only thing that Chooch ever talks about anymore. She was the new kid this year, and when he went to her birthday party last fall, Henry said Chooch was determined to win her a prize from the Claw Machine at Dave and Buster’s, to the point where he had used up all of his tokens and Henry eventually took over so he could hurry up and win a fucking thing before Chooch wound up spending $18 on a stuffed animal.
I wasn’t there (parent phobia, remember? Stop forgetting everything I tell you! It’s offensive and hurtful) but Henry said Chooch made a huge deal out of presenting it to her.
They used to sit together too but the teacher had to separate them because they were too busy being googly, I guess.
Two weeks ago, I got to see her for a split second when I took Chooch to school, but I didn’t get a good look at her. That night though, he said to me, “Well, Mommy…now you know.” I asked him what it was I was supposed to know, and he quickly spat out, “How beautiful Hailey is!” and his face was beet red. I didn’t make fun of him, because I’d like for him to continue to tell me these things, but holy shit did Henry and I giggle about it later.
So yes, this is the story of how I finally got to see my kid’s crush in action. Totally fucking adorable and I would post a picture here but I have retained that lesson I learned awhile back and will instead just store that photo away somewhere un-Internet-ish.
Fuck yeah, pizza!! Roller rink pizza is not exactly the best, but after you’ve been skating around in a dark oval for an hour, you start to think that nothing in the world could taste better. I ate that slice so fast, I don’t even think I tasted it. Then I was mad because I ordered pink lemonade (also a great album, holla if you’ve heard it) only because I didn’t know they had MELLO YELLO.
Then I made Henry help me learn how to pose for pictures, and by that I mean how to smile naturally without looking like Jay Leno, a dead hooker or a stroke victim. Oh sure, I can take a decent selfie. That’s why selfies are the greatest invention of our time. Almost everyone can look attractive when they’re manipulating their own angles and using filters. Unfortunately, we can’t use selfies on drivers licenses and who the hell has a wedding album full of nothing but selfies? Not that I’m naive enough to think I’m getting married anytime soon, but it would be nice to not panic every time a lens is thrust in my face on my (mythical) big day.
We got one picture (above) that I thought was kind of decent, but Henry was rolling his eyes and mumbling about how he didn’t want to take anymore pictures of me because he can only look at my magnificent face for so long before being blinded by beauty.
J/K you guys. “Magnificent” is too large of a word for him.
Anyway, I was aiming for “innocent sweetheart with a provocative secret” in that pose.
FEED ME MORE SOFT PRETZEL.
Other things to note about the rink:
- I hated no one. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? I don’t think this has ever happened before?
- I interacted with parents and didn’t turn to stone! It was actually not too bad and now they all know what a fucking dream on wheels I am.
- I got to make my own sundae!!! Thanks, Birthday Boy and Family!
- This rink has scooter races!!!!!! Asshole Henry wouldn’t team up with me because I’m too heavy to push and I couldn’t find my idiot son so I didn’t get to race, which is a shame because I would have won.
- The DJ is pretty great and sounds like he actually is on the radio from 1965.
- The only low point was when they played that ridiculous “Frozen” song and I purposely skated off the rink and sulked with my arms crossed because that song is extremely unskateable.
- There was this one older broad there who was singularly bringing some Xanadu action up in there and I was obsessed with her. “I want to be like her when I grow up!” I wailed to Henry. And then there was an awkward moment when I was skating behind her and then she spun around and started skating backward, so it was like we were accidentally couple-skating. I got over it though because people thinking I was with that lady wouldn’t have been the worst thing to have happened, if you know what I’m saying.
TRA LA LA, MUTHAFUCKAS.
Seriously, I will be going back to this place with a quickness.