Got myself a buddy.

I finally have myself a buddy. A ski buddy. I have to think that every father has the same thought when they are handed their first son. "Now I have a buddy to do things with. Father and Son." Then, if other father's are anything like me, the next few years are spent waiting and wondering. What will we do together, and when will it be? Will our Father, Son activity be fishing? Biking? Music? Cub Scouts? Skiing!

The weekend before Thanksgiving we went to get Gavin his first set of downhill skis. Man, was he excited, and so was I. Here it was. Our first activity. Donna doesn't ski, so this time would be all mine from start to finish. Gavin was perfect as we went from the skis, to the bindings, to the boots, to the helmet (more on this in a minute), to the goggles, to the gloves, to the jacket. The whole nine yards, from head to ski tip, smiling the entire time. Now, what was his favorite part? The helmet and goggles. Gavin picked out a cool shiny red ski helmet, with flames down the side. It was the first one he picked off the rack, and after trying on several others, it was the one he stuck with. He was so proud of his helmet and goggles that he wore them through the rest of the store, and all the way home. If only I had my camera to capture the huge grin staring back at me from under the helmet in the rear view mirror.

I picked his skis up from the shop on Monday, and he put them on as soon as he got home from school. He walked all around the family room with them on with surprising ease. Again, with both of us wearing a huge smile.

I am not sure which of us is more excited for our first trip together, but I am checking the slope report regularly just waiting for that bunny hill to open up for us.