The slippery slope

I looked down the glacier. “It’s too steep.” “Don’t be such a baby!” she retorted. She turned and skied off, pretending to suck her thumb. I knew I shouldn’t have fallen for her clever reverse psychology. I closed my eyes and pushed off, my thighs ached and barely maintained my snow plough position, but there was no going back. French children, smoking Marlboros, swished past in jeans and T shirts. In the distance my wife pretended to rock a child in her arms. But then …