Sledding, not sliding

Eight-year-old Violet came for a sleepover one night during Christmas break.

While she was here, I suggested we try out the flying saucer I'd purchased just recently. I hadn't gone sliding in 50 years, and I wasn't sure Violet had ever gone sliding, so this was our golden opportunity, given the snow and the hill in our back yard.

Whenever I mentioned sliding, though, Violet immediately corrected me: "Not sliding, SLEDDING."

So we went sledding.

I took the first turn down the hill, because I wanted to see where I'd end up. If it was in a tree or somewhere deep into the woods, I'd know I'd better not allow Violet to use the flying saucer. I always like to return her to her parents intact, if at all possible.

My trial run went well, and before long Violet was whooping and hollering her way down the hill. I heard numerous shouts of "Awesome!" and even a couple shouts of "Epic!"

Violet and I went shopping the next day. While we were out and about, she came up with what she thought was a brilliant idea: "Let's look for another flying saucer, Aunt Jean. Then you and I can race each other down the hill."

I made sure we stayed out of stores selling sledding equipment.