I was practically certain that I was too old for amusement parks.
My spouse loves amusement parks. He is a big, overgrown kid who still wants to ride on the rides. I tolerate them.
We heard about an amusement park in Chattanooga. It is not too far away and it seemed like a good weekend adventure. We took my grandson along for an excuse, though my honey really didn’t need an excuse.
This place turned out to be a kiddy park, which was okay since my grandson is a kiddy and so is honey. They had a few adult-type rides, but for the most part it seemed to be more like the place where old amusement park rides go before they die.
I agreed to go on a ride called the Tilt-A-Whirl. Silly me.
“Isn’t this fun?” yelled honey, as it slung us around in circles.
“I feel sick! I think I may throw up.” I groaned, as I staggered away, feeling like I’d been inside a blender.
While I recovered, honey went on another whirly ride. I don’t know what it did as I was too nauseated to watch. My grandson was also chicken at first, though he recovered and rode it later—no hands.
“Let’s ride the paddle boats!” exclaimed honey.
“My knees! My knees!” I was finding body parts that I had long ago forgotten about.
“How about the Scrambler then?” asked honey.
“How about the swings?” I replied in desperation, immediately sorry I had mentioned it.
As I flew round and round, I was certain my shoes would go flying off my feet and end up somewhere in the lake. My eyebrows twitched as I tried to figure out how close to death I was.
“Baby stuff,” grumbled honey.
I knew we were headed towards the roller coaster as we worked our way to the back, and sure enough, there it was. I used to love roller coasters, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
We inched up the first hill and I held on with white knuckles. “Wheeeee!” yelled honey as we hit the first dip.
“Help! Let me offffff!” I screamed as my internal organs turned inside out and my backbone crackled. I couldn’t remember what it was that I used to like about a roller coaster as I staggered away holding my back.
“Does this place have first aid? Call the paramedics!”
After that, it didn’t really matter, as everything that could be broken was already broken and my brain was jelled.
I got on their newest ride, fool that I am. I forget what it was called. Actually, I’m trying to forget the whole day.
“You know what happens, don’t you?” asked my honey, seeing my pale face and clenched teeth.
There was a kid about five years old sitting next to me. How bad could it be? As we reached the top and plunged back fourteen stories to earth, I found out. My hair stood straight up, my glasses nearly jumped off my face, and my stomach is still up there somewhere.
The little kid next to me was crying, as I unbuckled my seat and honey helped me wobble to the exit.
“I’m going to kill you for that!” I mumbled to my former honey…
After two hours, I was ready to go home. It took another six hours before my grandson was convinced.
I crawled to the closest picnic table, wishing I could take a nap.
I stared at the carousel. “See the pretty horses go round and round, up and down,” I gurgled.
By the end of the day, I was sunburned and brain-dead but managed to make it home without losing my glasses, my teeth, my camera, my shoes, or my lunch.
But, I am absolutely certain now that I am too old for amusement parks.