DADVENTURE: Ripstiks and Sick Kids

I took one look at the thing and sprained both ankles and fractured my tibia. 

Because skateboards are not nearly unstable and dangerous enough, someone went ahead and invented the Ripstik.  To these guys, four wheels seemed excessive, so they pared that down to two, and put those on casters.  Then, because some beta testers didn't dislocate both kneecaps, they hinged the thing in the middle.

Several of the neighborhood kids scores these things from irresponsible parents at Christmas, and a recent warm stretch brought them out in the open.  My son saw.  My son begged.  I'm a sucker for anything that gets the kids outside and moving around.  I did a little research, and was a bit put off by the sticker (MSRP $129), but found one on Amazon for just $77 (yesterday I saw one for that price at Target).  I decided to limit my liability (Bubba is a highly litigious child) by splitting the cost with the boy.  He ponied up; I hit "place order."

Cut to: short montage of child asking father "is it here yet" for four straight days.

The thing finally arrives, and that was the last time I saw my son.  The learning curve was essentially vertical.  In minutes he had figured out the weird scissor motion that allows a rider to actually propel the thing up hills.  A pack of Ripstik children came wiggling out of the gloom, and away they went.

I don't know if there is a better place than a boarding school campus to ride these things, but if there is, I'd like to know about it.  Got any ripstik families out there?

Speaking of transportation, if you ever want to know if an adult in our house is planning a business trip, simply walk over to one of the children and place your hand on his/or her forehead.  Over 102, somebody is hitting the road.  This time the traveler is my wife, and the patient is Ri-ri.  My wife is going to a conference and won't return until Friday.  My daughter spiked a fever on Sunday and still has 102 this morning, so it looks like the flu.

 We're in the countdown to mom's departure, and the anxiety among the children is growing.  Though ill, Ri-ri has asked me no less than four times what we are having for dinner (cheeseburgers).  Bubba asked if he'll need to bike (across town) for basketball practice, and Coop just goes on crying jags.

I am trying not to take this as a vote of no confidence in my parenting abilities.  But it's not easy because I'm more nervous than they are.  Most troubling – getting those that are well enough off to school.  Backpacks and breakfast and teeth brushed and hair combed? I'm also nervous about mealtime with all the best dad shortcuts off the table because of a sick child.  My wife stocked and color coded ingredients in the fridge, but I am still clearly capable of screwing it up.

All humiliations will be duly recorded right here.  So if you're the type that likes to rubberneck a good trainwreck, check back frequently.