It was a temperate one hundred degrees and the sun was shining. Spirits were high as they waited on line for the first ride, Goliath.
Even my baby rode. This is the first time she has been tall enough to ride any of the” big kid” rides and nothing was going to stop her, not even her mom. I may have paced a bit and prayed that the good Lord would hold that coaster car in the air with his very hand, because we all know they can spontaneously break apart into a million little pieces while every passenger plummets to their death. I know the odds are against it, but still. It. Can. Happen.
Although I was certain she would walk off that ride in tears, she was fine. No liquid spilled from her eyes, or any other place. She was dry as a bone and alive. FringeBoy said she never stopped screaming, “Mom-mmmy”, but she was fine and much braver than I. I simply cannot stand the feeling of my stomach getting stuck in my throat on the long fall to what seems like a bone crushing death. So I ride very few rides.
I am officially a baby. Even on the log flume, I hung on to my aunt and buried my face in her shoulder as she screamed for both of us.
I did ride into the Monster Mansion. Here’s what the sign said.
It is Southern tradition for any human arriving at a monster function to greet the host by making a MONSTER FACE.
Who am I to buck tradition? Especially Southern tradition! I know people south of the Mason-Dixon line don’t mess around with us Yankees, bless their heart, so in grand tradition, we made our monster faces.
We’re a bunch of meanies. I’m pretty sure FringeMan is a pirate at heart, and my son looks a little like a caterpillar with a face, but we gave it our best go. I just bared my teeth. They are my only defense against the random monster or amusement park ghost, so you know I am going down first. My poor aunt kind of looks like she had a stroke, but I assure you, we were all medically well enough for the Monster Mansion.
I think this was my favorite ride. We toured the mansion in a boat, and although it did get slightly creepier than a blue elephant asking for a smooch, it still didn’t make me want to jump into FringeMan’s lap and risk capsizing the boat. Although when we stepped into the back seat, FringeMan did say, “Oh, good, we’re in the back. We can smooch now.”
The girl operating the ride just laughed and shook her head.
And right about the time we were ready to pass out from hours of baking in the hot Georgia sun, we came up a little oasis in the middle of the park, water.
And although the first roller coaster was also the last, it was still a dream come true.
Do you love a good amusement park and ride all the rides or are you an ultimate wimp like me?