Skip to main content

Whee!



My mom, bless her, and I stood in line for almost an hour to ride the Judge Roy Scream, the wooden roller coaster whose opening coincided with our trip to Six Flags in 1980. My big sister had turned chicken once we arrived at the park and refused to ride much of anything, but I had been watching the Judge on TV commercials all summer long, and although I was nervous, I was determined to get on that coaster. We finally got to the top of the line and got strapped in the cars. I was wondering if I’d be brave enough it wave my hands over my head on the descent. I wondered if my dad and Jana would be able to see us from the ground. I was wondering some other things but then we started to move. The cars slooowly inched up up up the big ascent and just before we dropped, I realized that I’d made a horrible mistake.

“I don’t want to do this!” I screamed. “Get me off! Don’t make me do this! I don’t want to be here! Mooooommmm!” And so forth, for the full ninety seconds of the ride.

Then it was over, and as the lap bars unclicked and we started to unload, I said to my mom, “Can we do that again?”

On Friday night we took the kids to a rinky-dink carnival in the Home Depot parking lot. Mallory and I rode the Dizzy Dragons together, which Phoebe declared “too scary.” So imagine my surprise when, while Mallory ran into the Funhouse, Phoebe pointed to the “Music Express” and said: “I want to ride that, Mommy!”

I tried to dissuade her, but Phoebe has never been dissuaded from anything that she’s got her mind set on, so off we went. I handed over the tickets and we got strapped in and then commenced the longest amusement park ride in recorded history. We started to spin. Phoebe laughed. We undulated. Phoebe shrieked with delight. “It’s fun, isn’t it?” I said. Then the spinning and undulating and bumping up and down got faster. And faster. And didn’t seem likely to stop in a timely fashion. We kept going. I was beginning to regret the sweet and sour shrimp I’d had for dinner. We spun. Around and around. Up and down. Phoebe still laughing. Around and around. I saw Chris and Mallory and Amy on the sidelines and telepathically asked them to send for help. Then, finally, we slowed. And stopped.

Then, we started going backwards.

You cannot imagine my despair. Around and around we went. The undulations seemed even worse, going backwards. The centrifugal force was causing a painful crick in my neck. Around and around. As we spun I could see Chris and Amy first laughing, then looking a bit concerned. I no longer cared how Phoebe was faring; I just kept one hand on her leg to make sure she didn’t fly off the seat and closed my eyes and tried not to barf. When would this ride end? We kept going and going. And going. And…going.

Then, blessedly, we stopped. I wrestled with the lock on the lap bar, lifted it up, stumbled onto the platform. Turned to Phoebe, who I assumed would be as addled and shaken and nauseated as I was.

Phoebe clutched the bar and shouted, “I want to do it again!”

Comments

MomofK9s said…
I have not had many of those "I feel your pain" moments where I actually felt the person's physical pain, but on Friday I completely did!
Anonymous said…
That's pretty funny. Who would have ever thought that one of your kids would love something like that!

Mom
aimee said…
That is the Himalaya at WonderLand!!! I used to love that ride. Then a few years ago, I went on it again and thought it was the worst thing ever. I guess it is only for the young.
J&H Noble said…
I was just thinking that Aim! I loved the Himalaya so much and rode it time after time. Somehow, I've gotten a little less brave when it comes to roller coasters though. Guess growing up does that to you.
Holly

Popular posts from this blog

New Math

This word problem was on Mallory's math homework last week:

Lesia has 32 stickers. Diana has a few stickers. Lesia adds their stickers. She has to regroup when she adds. How many stickers does Lesia have? Circle the number.
3
5
6
8

We puzzled til our puzzlers were sore, but we still couldn't figure out the answer. I wrote a note beside the problem: "Mrs. G., this problem didn't make sense to either Mallory or her parents."

The next day the paper came back with a note from Mrs. G. She circled the last line of the problem and wrote:

"Misprint! This should have said Diana."

Okay! Whew! I was relieved to know that I wasn't, in fact, dumber than a second grader.

Except then I realized that I still didn't understand how the answer could be 3, 5, 6, or 8.*

I can't wait til she gets to algebra.



*Unless what they're calling "regrouping" is what we used to call "carrying the ones." In which case the answer would be 8. I think. Maybe.

Yard Sale. YARD SALE!

Anyone who doesn’t hear Tom-Hanks-as-Woody-the-Cowboy screaming that line…hasn’t spent much time around small children. Or at least around small children who like to watch Disney movies.

We had a yard sale this weekend – we being me, Chris, his sister Amy, and his mom. Yikes, it was exhausting. There was much hauling of boxes and furniture and standing around and chasing Mallory and Phoebe about the driveway all Saturday long. I made a hundred bucks – not too shabby, I guess. Chris made about $75 selling the “dregs” of his toy collection. The main point, however, was to sell our old living room furniture because we’re getting a new sofa and chair today (it’s being delivered as we speak!). We did sell our beat-up love seat for $25, but there were no takers for the beat-up sofa sleeper or the recliner. Alas, but that’s the way it goes.

Most of what I sold was baby stuff – clothes, bouncy seats, playmats, and so forth. It was a relief to see it go. Right after Phoebe was born I had the urg…

Confederation, confederation, confederation

Mallory has a big Social Studies test today. She’s not doing well in Social Studies, this year. When I asked her why her grades were so low, she said, “I don’t like Social Studies. Besides, no one can be good at everything.” I thought this was a fair point, but let her know that it was not acceptable for her to do quite so poorly, whether she liked it or not.

We studied for hours for this test. We read the chapter twice, summarized main points, went over vocabulary words, filled in blanks and did true/false quizzes. There were moments when I despaired – as when I asked, “The villages of the Cherokee people came together to form a...” and she said, “Um...bison?” But I think she knows the material pretty well; honestly I’m not even sure what else we could have done to get her prepared. I told her we would like for her to get at least a B.

I know she’s nervous. I’m nervous for her. I slept poorly all night.

But, I also know more than I really wanted to know about the early peoples of …