The slide

There are many days when I ponder to myself, has papa truly lost his mind. Most times I come to the conclusion that he is in fact all there, but Saturday afternoon falls into the latter category. Or at least it did for a few minutes. We were running from the snow-maze to the pony rides when he started pointing at the big hill. He told me that we were going to go sliding down on our pants. I clearly thought he had lost his marbles.
Unfazed, he picked me up, brought me in this long line of people heading into what appeared to be a snow cave. It was cold and windy and at this point, all I wanted was to play with Bella and see maman. My gloves were off and I had zero interest on putting them back on. Clearly, at this point, the fest had been taken out of Winterfest. A few short minutes later, we turn around and we saw an ocean of people milling about below us. Papa jumped up onto what appeared to be a big ice cube and placed me on his lap. Before I could caution him on the dangers of rapid travel on icy slopes, he wrapped his arms around me and: swoosh. What had taken us the better part of 15 minutes to participate in was over in less than 15 seconds. We zoomed down the hill, yelling, screaming and having fun.