I am going to Six Flags this weekend (with D) for the first time in years and years. Yikes.
I used to love Six Flags until it played a role in one of the scariest experiences I’ve ever had as a parent. Long story short, when the boys were seven and ten we had an exciting day planned at the park. We were having one of those summer weeks during which it’s even sweltering hot in the morning, and literally the minute we handed over our tickets and entered the park, D passed out from heat stroke. It was a scary couple of days (understatement) and truly affected all of us for a long time. J even wrote about it somewhat randomly at school a couple of years later:
From that point on, whenever we spoke about Six Flags, it was called “Sick Flags”. We have visited the park only once since that day, but it’s been a while.
Fast forward to my being offered park tickets by my friends at Chevrolet (this is not sponsored, by the way). The first thing I thought of was the whole “Sick Flags” incident, and the second thing I thought of was that since D and I are going alone, I’m likely going to be riding a bunch of coasters that I would have otherwise skipped if it wasn’t just the two of us and I could have waved at him and his coaster-riding companion from a bench. Eek.
Don’t get me wrong: I used to LOVE roller coasters—cough, cough, when I was a lot younger—but have you SEEN roller coasters these days? ROLLER COASTER DESIGNERS ARE INSANE. There, I said it.
Add to the insanity of today’s roller coasters the fact that I have a twenty-two year old son who has an ambition to skydive/bungee jump/*insert other adventurous “Hell no, not me, thank you very much” kind of sport here* some day.
So yes, I picked up some motion sickness medication for the occasion. I mean, how can we have a great mom and son day at the park if I get too sick for a funnel cake break?
Last night it occurred to me that D is spending Friday night and Saturday in Madison with a huge group of friends from college, and it’s likely that there will be alcohol involved.
(An aside: sometimes it feels so bizarre to have a son who is of drinking age.)
I didn’t feel the need to remind him about not drinking and driving because he and his friends have always been smart about that. Oh, and I spent the first six months after he turned twenty-one reminding him so I’m done. It DID occur to me, however, that drinking causes dehydration, and dehydration is one of the precursors to heat stroke.
No matter that it’s October and the daily highs around here are in the low sixties at best.
I decided to send him a text message about drinking lots of water, kidding/not kidding. He took it well. I’m not sure if he rolled his eyes but in my mind, he didn’t.
At any rate, I’m bringing some motion sickness medication for him, too. He’s not getting any younger, you know.