Sledding is the Winter Sport of the Devil

Let me preface this by saying that my roommate is reading Ethan Frome for one of her English classes, which I have not read but apparently has a traumatic sledding accident. She was quite upset by this because it "destroyed my [my roommate's] childhood". Now, while I feel sorry for all you lost souls out there who must discover the evil's on sledding as adults, do not say I did not tell you so

For better or for worse, I'm one of those people who, once they have a bad experience with something are forever opposed to that particular thing (that's why I don't use chocolate syrup anymore, but we are not getting into that). Which is why I am highly suspicious of sleds, toboggans, and the tomfoolery associated forthwith.

Because sledding is the winter sport of the devil. Just the image of children in snow pants sitting in plastic flying-saucer dishes makes me narrow my eyes suspiciously. Think about it, you are going down a sharply inclined plane on a little piece of plastic across a frozen surface, is that in any way frightening to anyone? Who thought that that was a good idea? Seriously! I mean, just thinking about it screams bad idea. Sure, its an adrenaline rush and stuff, but when you go flying into a tree and get splinters in your snow boots don't come crying to me.

Picture this: winter of 1999. I am five years old, going sledding in a local park with my dad. I am sitting in the front of the sled. At the bottom of the hill, I go flying off the end of the sled and land face first in a puddle of ice.

I have one word for you: Ow.

Just sayin'

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