Full Suburban: Wedded bliss on the ski slopes? Is that even possible?
Every year around this time, Logan and I have “The Big Talk.” The subject matter is always the same, and it’s unfailingly a tense conversation, filled with lots of tooth-grinding, awkward pauses, and staring up at the ceiling while searching for the right words.
The matter in question is this: Should we or should we not buy season ski passes this year?
My vote, of course, would be, “NO! WHY WOULD WE DO THAT???” But Logan’s answer is always, “It’s a fun bonding experience for the whole family! It gets us out of the house and doing something active! Of course we should do it!”
If you’ve been reading this column for a while, you are no stranger to the fact that I don’t exactly love skiing. Or snowboarding. Or being in the cold for extended periods of time. This is highly unfortunate, seeing as all of the above are some of Logan’s favorite pastimes.
Our oldest son, George, shares in his father’s passion and would go snowboarding all day, every day if he could (and he asks, believe me). But the rest of our kids are pretty so-so in their desire to spend a day on the slopes.
For the past few years, we’ve purchased a type of ski pass that gives us access to several ski mountains throughout the country. These passes offer a great value, but many of the mountains are far away, and some require reservations to be made ahead of time. So unless you want to waste your money, your time and your chance to go to your desired mountain, you feel compelled to show up even if the weather forecast has turned apocalyptic and it’s 20 below freezing and the mountain is being blasted by gale-force gusts of snow.
“Uh, are we seriously doing this?” I said one time last year when we were parking our car at a resort in Utah on just such a day as the one described above.
Even Logan looked nervous. “I guess?” he said.
I hated the entire experience from the moment I opened the car door and was almost blown sideways through the freezing parking lot. And indeed, it was a rough day on the mountain. Most of us were falling down non-stop in the deep snow, and we actually lost Emmett in the white-out conditions and had to alert the ski patrol. Almost everyone in our group headed to the lodge after just a couple hours to warm up and huddle around some over-priced french fries.
“I am absolutely not doing that again,” I said to Logan shortly thereafter. “Unless it’s a bluebird day or at least 2 degrees above freezing, I’m not going.”
“I completely understand,” he replied. But he doesn’t. Not really. When it comes to fun in the snow, he is a man possessed.
He simply cannot comprehend what I have against this most fun of all winter activities.
So I came up with an analogy to help him get it.
“What if I told you that, from December to March, we were going to go to no fewer than seven weddings?” I asked. “A few of the weddings will take up the entire weekend, so there will be no time for projects or just relaxing at home. We’ll bring all the kids each time, even though only half of them will enjoy it and the other half will complain or cry most of the time. We’ll pack the Suburban, load up a car-top carrier with decorations, different wedding outfits, and maybe all the food for the wedding reception, and then we’ll drive three to 10 hours to get there. You can make meals for everyone morning, noon and night while I live my best wedding-guest life, and then in a couple days, we’ll pack everything and everyone back up so we can do it all again the next week! Sound fun?”
Logan was not impressed.
“That doesn’t even compare,” he countered. “Weddings are just misery, start to finish. At least skiing and snowboarding are fun.”
I honestly don’t think he’ll ever get it.
We ended up purchasing the ski passes again this year. Family togetherness is, after all, worth some pain and suffering. But if anyone is looking for an extra family of eight to invite to their wedding this winter, please give me a call. I’ve got a husband who needs to learn a lesson.
Julia Ditto can be reached at dittojulia@gmail.com.