As mama hands you and Lucy a bottle of water each to drink, you further wet your damp nappy. It’s easier to go now, the wet warmth hugging you as you go up the ski lift. It would be nice to be in nappies forever, or at least until the holidays are over, you think.
“Same as yesterday,” mum explains at the top. “There are lots of black runs around, so make sure you follow either mama or I. Okay?”
“Ah-huh,” you hum in agreement as Lucy nods.
The clouds seem to have gotten even lower, but it’s still a really weird feeling to be skiing in what mum and mama call whiteout and then all of a sudden, you burst out of the clouds and can see the village below.
