For a lot people, a trip to an amusement park is a day filled with heart-pounding excitement and laughter. If you are one of those people, please know that I do not understand you. In my opinion, you are an entirely different species than I am. You are also INSANE.
Flashback - King's Island as a child. I am screaming like I am being massacred because I am on a roller coaster called "The Red Racer." I remember hoping that I would just fall out of the seat, because instant death would be better than being on that damn roller coaster.
Flashback - Disney World as a child. My older sister tells my family that the roller coaster "Space Mountain" is a very mild, relaxing ride. So I believe - an am actually enjoying the nice little jaunt - until we pull up to the count-down station. As the numbers flash I begin to scream because holy shit I know what's coming, and continue screaming till the ride is over.
Flashback - the county fair as a teenager. Because I still haven't learned my f'ing lesson, I am inside an egg-shaped cage being flung around in non-stop circles. I am hunched down, buried in my younger sister's shoulder, screaming and praying I don't throw up on her.
Flashback - King's Island as a teenager. I am with my high school friends, and you can't be too chicken to ride the Viking Ship. On the outside I'm pretending that it's fun to be convinced I'm going to die, but on the inside I'm shrieking, "Never again!!!!"
I don't have a problem watching others have fun on those death contraptions rides, but as I've gotten older I've found the confidance to just say, "Oh hell no." I did get a crazy hair two years ago and rode that big swing thing with Bean and Boba. I screamed the entire time - not the "oh I'm having so much fun" excited type of screams, but the "holy hell I'm going to fall outta this swing and become ground beef on the pavement below" type of screams. My kids, of course, thought it was hilarious.
Here are my basic guidelines for what I will ride:
1. No spinning
2. No going backwards
3. No going fast
4. No going high
Basically I am eligible only for the rides marked for people 32" and under. After seeing how much even the little boys enjoyed going on the big (incredibly scary) water slides during a recent trip The Mister remarked, "Huh. In a few years you'll just have to bring a book and read while we go on everything." True dat, I say.
I do like to convince myself that I'm not 100% chicken, so on our trip I agreed to ride something that had (shamefully) scared the hell out of me the last time. Something so tame that you don't see adults going on by themselves - everyone has a small kiddo with them. What's sad is that I have to admit that I actually had a freak-out moment while in line where I thought, "Oh my gosh - I can't do this." Then I reminded myself to put on my big girl panties because Short Pants needed someone to ride with.
Here we are before the ride starts. I'm looking decently happy and relaxed. Just so you know, it was an act and I was trying to figure out how I could jump out of that eagle before it started without looking like a complete coward:
You see how Short Pants is hanging on to the front of the eagle? It acts like kind of a sail, so as you turn it this way and that your eagle turns also once you're up in the air. When we did get up in the air OF COURSE Short Pants wanted to wildly swing back and forth as fast as he could. Because I didn't want to piss my pants in front of my own kid, I masterfully manipulated him by saying, "Oh, you don't want to swing it like that." When he asked why I answered, "It's just not as much fun that way."
This is me pretending to have fun. I always grit my teeth when I'm having fun, how about you? Notice that Short Pants looks gleeful while I have a death grip on the bird. And yes, I know. We are maybe 3 feet up in the air. WHATEVER.
All the little children enjoyed themselves while I practiced the deep breathing I'd last used during childbirth:
At one point Short Pants got tired of steering so he gave the sail a good fling and let go of it. I mostly successfully smothered a moan and grabbed that sucker. Short Pants asked, "Mommy, what did you make that uhnhmm sound?" And we rode the rest of the way like this:
That's right, people. Exactly how it should be done - sail unmoving and hand clinging to the bird for maximum safety:
When we got off the ride I actually had to sit down because I was still so dizzy. And might I add it's awfully hard work to be terrified and instead pretend like you're having a blast because you don't want to scar your sons forever.
Next year I will kick those eagles' asses.
Or maybe I will just hope that Short Pants and Pita Pocket will be tall enough to ride by themselves.