Chapter 3: Roller Rink

III.

Mid-winter break. And in our house, that means two wired boys with no structure. Must. Have. Motor. Discharge. We went to the roller rink. Guess who was there?

Check the two girls in the center of the rink, dancing on skates like they didn't have skates on at all. Wow. I noticed my girl staring, too. And a bunch of other people. Including my younger son.

I crashed into Brittany. I know. I was shocked. Generally, I'm vaguely competent on roller skates and hardly ever fall. No fancy stuff, like skating clockwise, though.

"Oh, hi!" She said. "Are you okay?"

We say that a lot. I think it has something to do with being girls who like impact.

"Yes I am. Are you?"

She helped me up.

"Hel-lo?" It was Santana. Impatient.

"Hey, Sweetie."

"Not your Sweetie."

"You are correct. She's skating over there. And my older son, he's playing the shooting game. And my younger one, he's causing near-crashes all over the rink." Pointing at each one.

"You call everybody Sweetie?" This was Brittany.

"Playground survival tactics. All the boys are Buddy, all the girls are Sweetie. Did not mean to offend, Santana."

"Santana, be nice. She's the one that gave me that song."

"Perv."

"Um, no. I am so far out of your league it makes my teeth hurt."

"What?" Brittany.

"What." Santana.

"I don't want to fight you, Santana. I don't fight outside the ring. Even when I want to."

"Mom!" My little man skated up. "I'm hungry!"

"Yeah? What would you eat?" He was staring at Brittany and Santana. He wasn't alone. "Buddy, what do you think you would eat? Buddy?"

"Huh?"

"Buddy, this is Santana and this is Brittany. I met them at the taekwondo tournament."

"Why did I not meet them at the taekwondo tournament?"

"You were in staging, then you were fighting."

"Pret-ty ladies."

"Dude! Manners!" I said.

"Sor-ry."

By now, Brittany and Santana were both biting their lips to keep from cracking up. "It's okay." They said.

"I gotta take care of this," I said.

"Mom!" My older son. "Mom!"

"Yes?"

"Can I have pizza? When are we going? Can we have ice cream after? Do you have more quarters?" Rapid-fire, as usual. "Wait, who are they? Which one of you wants to be my friend?"

"Get your bro a hot dog and you a pizza. Bring back the change," I said, stuffing a five in his hand.

"Hey, thanks. For the song," said Brittany in my ear.

I smiled. "You're welcome. Are you dating?"

"Not yet."