Writing about the Mind Bender episode of my childhood reminds me of another amusement park story--this one of me and my son and our trip to Six Flags a couple years ago.
As a 13 year old, Chase has just started to enjoy roller coasters. When he was 10, he wanted no part of them. This is much like I was at the same age, prior to being broken of my coaster fear by a wayward Mind Bender (see previous post). So while I tried to encourage Chase to give them a try, I wouldn't pressure or force him to ride roller coasters.
This particular summer, we decided to join some friends on a trip to Six Flags, friends who are roller coaster fanatics. The Doolittles consist of four: mom Melinda, dad Jimmy, sister Sydney, brother Connor (Chase's friend who we met them all through). I love them all, and they all love the high-flying fun that 60+ mph brings you on a hot summer day.
My husband could take or leave roller coasters--oh he of bad back--and most decidedly cannot stand 100 degree heat or crowds. Put the two together and it's John's Personal Hell. Which makes going with him my Personal Hell so we agreed this year to both do what we wanted (me to go and him to not go) and both be happy with the other's choice.
So Chase and I tagged along with the roller-coaster-loving Doolittles. Once at Six Flags, we zoomed straight for an area called Gotham City and one of the best rides in the park: Batman. The Batman coaster has passengers sitting below the tracks, hanging from them, as it were. It's the coolest sensation. Chase was having no part of it. And as it turns out, he wouldn't have had any say in the matter because he wasn't tall enough to ride anyway. Which meant that Chase's pal Connor also wasn't tall enough. You could see the dejection written as clearly on Melinda, Jimmy and Sydney's faces as if I'd written it on their foreheads: No Batman for You! I took pity on them: You guys go on, I said. I'll take the boys up to the Highland Swings while you ride Batman.
The three of them scrambled away, racing off to get in line with barely an "Are you sure?" yelled over their shoulders. Positive! I yelled back and steered my twosome toward the swings that were nearby. Chase likes these a lot--nothing to fear here. But Chase and I were tight and he still liked the comfort of me being nearby, so he was thrilled that I was the one taking and riding with them.
While in line, the boys stared up at the swings with each run the ride took. After a few, I thought I'd tease Chase a little and see what his reaction would be if he thought he'd have to brave the swings alone. "Hmmmm, look at those seats," I commented, worry clearly heard in my voice.
"What about them?" Chase asked, looking at them now through narrowed, suspicious eyes.
"I'm not sure I can fit in one of them," I tsked. "You and Connor might be going on this one without me."
Now, I'm a size 10 on any given day of the week and these seats were load tested for much more than I could bring. But I knew Chase wouldn't think that through; I was just trying to bring up a reason I couldn't go. Chase turned worried eyes to the swings, assessing the potential risks and how much greater they'd be for him if I wasn't in a swing five feet away. "I think you'll be alright, mom. You need to ride it with us... Yeah, you definitely need to ride with us. Don't you think it'll be ok? I won't ride if you can't ride..."
Just as I thought--my sweet boy was still a little boy. Didn't want to ride without his ol' mom. Warmed my heart. "Well, maybe it'll be alright," I told him, and as I chuckled to myself, he settled back into the excitement and anticipation of the ride.
A few more rotations and 20 minutes later, it was at last our turn. The gates opened and everyone raced forward, claiming a chain-held swing so they could at least be near others in their group. We were no different. In we charged and Chase grabbed an inside swing, Connor the one in front of him and I took an outside swing positioned between them. We all lifted the bars and took our seats, lowering the bar and hooking the chain. I was watching to be sure they did theirs correctly when Chase turned around to look at me and projected in a voice that was crystal clear and amazingly loud for a 10 year old: "See Mom? I told you that you wouldn't be too fat to fit in a swing!"
OMG. I bet I turned red to the tips of my toes as everyone in the vicinity swung around to take a look at what tub was trying to wedge into a seat and tip the potential weight limit of the ride. "I was just kidding," my voice rang out followed by a forced laughter. Lesson learned, I thought. Tease a 10 year old unnecessarily and you will pay the price.
Swings were fun though. :-)
