Just a Tiny Uprising

  Every year, a man in our church reserves two sheets of ice at the local Ice Skating rink and invites every one in the church come and bring any friends for a night of pure bliss of skating on two thin blades of metal on a floor of frozen water. You get to swerve tiny children that are taking their time to walk (or more like slide on their butt) across the main path, try to avoid the deep gashes in the ice that the older hockey playing boys have so kindly left for you and try to wiggle out of the vise grip of your little sisters who are looking for an easy way around the rink. It is so fun. Really. No lie. Other than the fact that theres food offered there, (what?! Im Italian!!) and free skates, I actually like the idea of smashing my self into a rock hard floor and knocking the breath out me. Im usually the only girl out playing hockey with all the guys. Why I dont know, but it has earned me looks from the lady like girls who all cheer on the sidelines that say "What are you doing Sara?" Its soo fun!That is, while it lasts. After your done skating at break neck speeds for hours and you finally sit down for the first time that night, you find that you have been creating nightmare blisters underneath your really wet socks. Speaking about wet socks, you dont realize how wet they are until you take them off, and by that time you cant or really dont want to put them back on again. By that time you realize you didnt bring extra socks like your mom was telling you to do for the full five hours before you left for the rink, and there is no way that you are putting your feet back in your shoes with out socks. So you usually leave the rink limping, bruised (on your rear end of course, where else?)  and without shoes or socks on. And this is November in Michigan by the way. Lets just say its cold... very cold. I'm so excited for this years skating night, and Im not alone!! If the guy who puts this together every year was to forget a year, I think we would see a long line of protesters out side his house. Boy! I wonder if he knows what hes got himself into!

Why? I don't know.

My little sisters have this weired problem of pointing to and at everything with the middle finger. I have no idea why it started, I mean they've never done it before, but lately everything from reading a book to pointing at a passing dog has involved an older sibling or parent taking their hand and gently correcting the finger position. It caused quite a problem the other day when Tabitha and I were walking around outside and a nice little old lady decided to do the same. Tabitha looked at me and tugged on my jacket.
 "Look Sara!" She said and pointed, innocently yet offensively, at the Ladies pink shawl. The Lady's face turned from a healthy crisp pink to a deep red and she quickly walked away muttering, "Children nowadays..." 
Ohhhh Tabitha, the innocents of youth.