There was no way today was going to be a good day.
Our little girl was experiencing separation issues with her bio family and spoke them non-stop from the time the car pulled out of the driveway, to my wife's work to the front door of her school. "My momma has my...My momma gives me...My momma took me to...My daddy showed me...My daddy gave me...My daddy did..." I tried distracting her with eye-spy games which led to, "My momma saw a.." I couldn't seem to take her mind off what was bothering her and when I left her at the door to her classroom she was weeping. I gave her a hug and a kiss and told her I loved her very much and would see her after school. It hit me hard just as I opened the double-doors to go to the parking lot: I really don't have the skills necessary to help this child! I need a degree in counseling to know what to say. I need a teaching degree to help her learn. I need a wand to wish away her hurts. I have none of those, but I can roller skate.
The Mrs had a light surgery schedule and got picked up first. She got into the car, sneezed four times, put her hand on top of her head and moaned, "Oh god." I said, "Gee, honey, that sounds like you have the plague." She growled at me. After picking up the rugrat from school who was still in sulk mode, I took us home, installed my wife on the couch, put the remote to the TV in her hand, placed a bowl of soup on the coffee table, dosed her with Nyquil, grabbed the kid and off to the skating rink we went.
It took me three tries to get her skates in the right size. Before we left the house I asked my wife what size shoes our daughter wore and I now know she said, "Why?" I thought she said, "Nine." She fell so often I thought she would want to quit during the first ten minutes, but her demeanor changed when a little buzzbomb went whizzing by her that had to be her same age. "I wanna go that fast," she said. "Okay squirrel, you will. I promise, trust me?" She nodded and followed my lead. From the carpet on the side of the rink, around the tile in the snack area while grabbing the tables and finally into the rink itself. One hand in mine, one on the wall and fall after fall after fall. She never quite hit the floor all the way before I stood her up again. A thousand encouragements and plenty of 'Atta-girls' later she wanted to go it alone - all around the rink with me on the other side of the wall, close enough to reach out to, but far enough away to not, "slow her down." She even went into the 'bumps' section of the rink - four times.
There was no way today was going to be a bad day.