24. Ice Skating

The winter's crisp air greeted Logan and his father at the frozen pond, where laughter mingled with the soft sounds of skates gliding across the ice. Frankie knelt beside his son, lacing up Logan's small, uncertain feet into the ice skates.

"Just take it slow. You'll get the hang of it," Frankie encouraged, his warm smile reassuring.

The young boy, a mixture of excitement and nervousness, clutched onto his father's hand, his grip tight as they glided onto the ice. Tentative steps turned into hesitant glides, the reflective surface beneath them seeming both thrilling and treacherous.

Frankie's guidance provided a sense of security, but the icy dance proved challenging for Logan once he no longer had a hand to hold onto. With each misstep, Logan found himself falling, the cold surface offering a sting on his behind.

"Whoa, it's okay, buddy. Just shake it off," Frankie chuckled, helping his son up again.

"But I keep falling!" Logan protested, his frustration evident.

Frankie ruffled his mini-me's hair. "That's part of learning, Logan. Everyone falls when they're starting out. Soon enough, you'll be gliding like a pro."

Logan took a deep breath, determined to master the skill of ice skating. "Alright. Again."