Skiing Mount Doom

Ever since I can remember what family home evening/friday family fun night was, there was always the suggestion of cross-country skiing thrown about as the possible activity. It was often shot down by the idea of instead eating hordes of popcorn and other unhealthy food items at the local theater. That, or my sister and I would get in such an epic fight that all fun would be canceled for that week. I also believe my parents were beginning to realize their eldest daughter was a constant attractor of obscure life threatening situations. As per my years are numbered and it is only a matter of time before my black cloud eats my soul, I decided it would be wise to scratch cross-country skiing with the fam off of the bucket list. I believe this idea was supported in part by my father's desire to measure Sel's "worthiness" of dating his bouncing ball of joy. Since , jousting, head-hunting, the giving of barnyard animals and climbing world's largest mountain weren't ideal sounding options over Christmas break (though they will probably occur within the coming year), cross-country skiing was chosen as the test. As my sister, poptart, Sel and myself started the trek to Doughnut Falls, it became all too apparent who was going to be required by their immediate skill, elegance, and suprising abilities to try out for the next Winter Olympics: Me. Haha, gotcha! Unless they wanted to hire me to give the athletes a little boost of hope in going against the rest of the world.
"Alright athletes. Gather round. We are going to watch this girl try to cross-country ski as our warm-up today. It will be entertaining and the warm-up part will come from you all skiing her back down the mountain to a hospital"
Poptart and the second born glided through the enchanted wonderland like little fairy princesses . Yes, even the tall, dark headed fellow who married my lovely mother resembled a fairy princess. I have pictures to prove it. Sel kindly stayed behind to keep me company despite his ever present ability to join the two graceful fairies on the distant horizon. At one point, we reached a decent sized hill that reduced me to popping off my skis and walking up. My blood related slave was one determined little thing and crawled up the hill with her skis attached and the muscular Sel huffed it to the tip top too. Then came the hill that defeated us all. I have currently named it Mount Doom. The only difference really was that we were going down it, there probably isn't lava burning beneath it's surface, my finger wasn't reduced to a bloody stump by a peculiar anorexic creature suffering from bi-polar disorder and lung disease, we weren't in Mordor and we didn't have the ring of power. Oh and no one touchingly said with fierce tears in their eyes "I might not be able to carry your ski's Lauren, but I can carry you" I believe the fall down count was
Poptart: II
Girl who should have listed to me more as a child: III
Sel: IIII
Me: IIIIII
I was ultra prepared for the frozen tundra as per I was wearing my Grams' gardening gloves. And since I have excellent circulation, my fingers started to look like a double rainbow minus all the colors once we reached the falls. Which, may I insert, were spectacular! It was beautiful! We took off our ski's, hiked up the mountain, and crawled into a little opening into the cave of wonders. We also fell into the pool that transported us to the time of the Nephites. It was a grand old time. Sel proved his manliess to my father after realizing he would be dating a girl with nubs as hands and giving me his warm winter gloves. My kindly father then passed off his gloves to Sel as a sign of acceptance, appreciation, and acknowledgement that Sel has survived dating me and my black cloud thus far. Though I have some pretty bruises from the experience, cross-country skiing was probably the best part of break. :) Maybe head-hunting will be the family christmas activity for next year...Other than the vicitm, the likelihood of my family and I getting hurt is minimal ;)

L