Family Vacations …
Just Like Roller Coasters
Years ago I worked as a performer at an amusement park. It was a great summer gig. In between shows we would ride the roller coasters non-stop. Back then the faster the coaster the better. There was nothing more thrilling then the feel of the wind in my hair and that tickle in my stomach as I dropped 200 feet. I was young and fearless. Ah, the good old days!
Recently, I got the brilliant idea to return to my beloved summer job and to show my children just how cool their mom used to be. As a performer I never paid to get in, so boy was I surprised when I saw how much a day of fun for the whole family really cost. Determined to have a good time, I sold my non-essential internal organs, paid the cover and in we went.
Somehow, the roller coasters of my youth seemed to have grown larger and scarier over the years. I prayed that my thrill seeking son wouldn’t notice them. But, giving them even more emphasis, everywhere you turned there was a gift shop pimping overpriced T-shirts boasting how the wearer had conquered this coaster or that one.
We had a slight problem we needed to overcome in order for my son to earn the right to don one of those sought after Ts. Who was going to ride with him? You see, shortly after giving birth to my second child, I developed stress-induced vertigo, and let me tell you, the idea of riding those steel death traps was upping my stress level big time. My husband was not eager to volunteer either. Although my hubby is a Superhero in our eyes, his kryptonite is anything that affects his stomach. My six-foot tall hunky stud muffin becomes a helpless kitten in a matter of moments when his itty-bitty tummy hurts.
So, who was going to ride with my son? I certainly was not going to let my 11-year-old boy go by himself. What if he got heat stroke while waiting? What if he got scared and changed his mind? My overprotective mama bear instincts outdid my fear of tossing my cookies in public … and I gave in.
We started with what my son said was the easiest of the “bad boys.” Guess what? He lied! And since my child is as honest as Abe he chose to tell me the truth just as we were locked in and started our climb upward. I wish I purchased the picture that they took of me on that ride. I had a death grip on the security bar, my eyes were shut and my mouth was wide open screaming in terror. And there sitting next to me was my boy with a smile from ear to ear and both arms waving in the air. When the ride stopped, my son, who had to help me pry my hands off the security bar, actually had the nerve to ask if we could ride again! Um … NO!
We made our way back to our group where I sat down and tried to keep the smoked turkey leg lunch doing the same. My husband smiled nervously and volunteered to try the next one.
Forty minutes later hubby exited the ride green as Oscar the Grouch and with the same disposition too. As he walked by us on his way to his very own garbage container I heard him mutter under his breath, “There is no such thing as fun for the whole family!” To which my extremely profound and obviously quick-witted son replied, “Mom, I just realized that family vacations are a lot like roller coasters. They are both filled with ups and downs and you never know what’s around the next corner. And oh yeah … they both can make you scream and throw up!”
Sharon Fuentes is a frequent contributor to Westchester Family and scared-stiff of roller coasters.School Book Fair. Out.
