critbritlit

I came home last night and discovered that my friend D. had sent me a skateboard for my birthday. I've been wanting a skateboard. I asked my husband for one a while back, but, being the cautious sort, he demurred. "You'll knock your teeth out," he said. He got me a scooter instead.

Scooters are for wusses.

But that's why you have friends. Friends are all about encouraging you to try reckless things like death drops and tattoo acquisition. I like to do the same for this particular friend: it was I who encouraged her to hop the big wall to that castle outside of Galway--the one with the signs all over it that read, "KEEP OUT! DANGER!" And I think I made her scale the rope up to the top tower, too, so that we could check out all the cigarette butts and condom wrappers of the trespassers who'd been there before us.

After all, as we like to tell each other, what are they going to do? Take away your birthday?

Now I've got the skateboard, and my daughter has already fallen off at least once and sent it spinning into a sliding glass door. So we'll be cautious.

Sort of.