I Need To Apologize To My Spine

It seemed like such a good idea at the time.  Take my stepsons, Harrison, Reilly, and Reilly’s friend Kyle, to Six Flags at Magic Mountain and ride the roller coasters with them.  I used to be quite the little roller coaster bad ass and I figured I could bond with the boys while traveling 100 m.p.h. in 3 seconds while strapped into a steel cage. 

Never was I so wrong!  It was horrifying, terrifying, body jarring madness.  Plus, if I wanted to hear screaming and randomly smell puke all day I could of stayed home.

The rides at the park had names like The Vortex, Batman, The Riddler’s Revenge, Tatsu.

Those rides should of been called:

The Spine Eater

The Pre-Mature Ager from Intense Fear

The Ass Clencher a.k.a. The Constipator

The You Are No Longer 21

The Bitch You Are Crazy and Too Old To Be On This Ride, Sit Your Ass Down With A Nice Book And Quit Torturing Yourself (I rode that one twice)

The boys on the other hand LOVED it.  They were determined to ride the rides for twelve hours (from open to close) and that is exactly what they did.  They were unphased through intense heat, hair ruining rides that soaked us in water from head to toe, rides that defied sanity and gravity.  When Kyle got nauseous and threw up after Batman and Reilly blacked out after Golliath the boys literally took a five minute break to “shake it off” only to get back on those roller coaster horses and ride again.

Meanwhile my ankles swelled (see photo above), my skin crisped in the sun, my bra straps gave up the valiant fight of maintaining dignity, and my body begged to not travel at speeds over 55 m.p.h. along rails of track.

In the end though, we did bond.  There were super yummy iced lemonades and churros, we all got fake tattoos, took turns on the Oxygen Bar and decided we got ripped off by flavored air and the next day we still can’t stop talking about our trip.

Next time we go to a theme park though, it is my turn to pick…here we come…Nap World.

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