Squirmingly nervously, you sit on the couch. For a moment you think about turning on the TV, but you’re not really interested. Besides the fact it was a weekday so there would mostly be soap operas on, mama said she would only be gone a bit. So instead, you try to relax occasionally looking up at the ticking clock on the wall. There’s easily an hour and a half before lunch, so after getting you… you know , you’d be skiing again.
Suddenly you giggle, thinking about how silly it will be skiing on those hard runs in a nappy. Maybe by the end of the end of the week you’ll go down a black run in one. Maybe mama was right when she said you weren’t a baby for wanting a nappy; babies didn’t ski down black runs… or blues runs probably.