Ferris Wheels. I actually cursed that Ferris guy for inventing the damn things while riding one last night. They really, really scare me. Rollie was determined to ride the double ferris wheel in the background of the picture below, and thank god in heaven, Todd took one for the team and rode with him. I would have had the big one.
So, Tiller decided she would go on the smaller one. I was all like, “Are you sure? It looks pretty scary up there, baby.” And she was all like, “YEAH! SCARY and FUN! Let’s go ride it, Mama!” and I was all like, Well, FUUUUCK. (In my head. I’m not that bad a mother.) And then, when we had to sit at the top of the damn thing, just a swangin’, while they loaded more people, and then the thing started up again, and we came around the front side, going down, nothing but clouds, trees, air and pavement in front of us, I said it again. Out loud.
Under my breath, one hand’s knuckles clamped tight and white around the metal bar in front of us, the other one white-knuckling a handful of Tiller’s shirt, my arm wrapped all the way around her back, under her arm, ready to snatch her from the jaws of death at any moment.
Tiller: “What’s that?”
Me: “Yuck. I said Yuck. Ferris Wheels make me feel yucky, like I might throw up.”
And the girl just laughed and laughed, kicking her legs, setting our seat to riotous swinging.