She pulls a small packet of tissues out and wipes the fog off the inside of your goggles before fitting them back on your head.
“We’ll have to get some more anti-fog on those,” she says.
They’re a little bit streaky, but way better than they were before.
“T-thanks,” you say.
Mum pulls you into a hug.
“Come on, lets get to the ski lift.”
Shakily, you nod, following mum down.
When you don’t like about your wet undies and wet socks, it’s not so bad. Your bladder doesn’t hurt any more so you can actually ski. Despite the little sniffle, you give mum a small smile as you get to the bottom.