Today at noon Cass's class went ice-skating at the local rink. We were in town at the same time, so we went in to see him. I stepped inside and was (except for the blast of cold air up my nose) swept back to roller-skating when I was young - although older than Cass, at any rate!
Lots of small determined bodies hurling themselves around while tinny music brayed from overhead speakers. Lots of colorful clothing and happy shrieking.
At least they weren't playing The Go-Gos. That would have meant I was experiencing either déjà vu or a break with reality, and I would have to had searched the place for my favorite skates, my Goody comb, and my hairspray.
I'm sure they were around there somewhere.
As the horn blew for times-up and the kids came off the ice, the thick rubber mats placed around the rink made them 'mince' on their skates, and suddenly I was behind this rushing wave of exuberant children, rosy-cheeked and swaying like debutantes wearing high heels for the first time.
Although come to think of it, I've never seen debutantes wearing snow pants....
Contrast that with the party I went to in the evening, where crowds of grown-ups discussed policies and stood in groups, little trays of canapes and bottles of wine, chatting and laughing while the Christmas lights shone down and painted everything.
Funny, though, the debutantes there? Were way less fun.....