When I was 8 years old my school had a skating night at Classic skating. I had learned to skate going up and down the sidewalk in front of our house with the roller skates I had received for Christmas, so I wasn't worried about having any trouble at the skating rink. My mom dropped me off and I was so excited. The glitter from the disco ball and the flashing lights filled my whole being with excitement. That night I enjoyed skating with my friends, and I loved the atmosphere of the skating rink with so many schoolmates there. Close to the time when the activity was supposed to come to an end I was knocked over by one of the older boys in attendance. I crashed to the floor hitting my arm on the hard floor. The boy who had knocked me over continued on until hitting my arm and then he tripped and fell as well. That night after going home my arm ached and ached. It was so hard to sleep because of the pain. After school the next day my mom took me to see the doctor where we found out that I had broken my arm.
Last night my own children had a school skating night, at Classic skating. As I walked through the doors nostalgia washed over me, the skating rink looks exactly the same as it did on that night so many years ago. We have attended school skating nights in the past, but I hadn't before thought much about that night. The last time I took my kids to the skating rink they both wore a rented pair of skates and each of them hung on one of my arms the entire time, I was ready to go much earlier than they were. Last night we didn't bother with skates, instead they rode their skooters around and around the rink, and thankfully we didn't have any broken bones to worry about.