Hershey Park

I knew I was getting old, but a day long trip to an amusement park confirmed all of that this weekend. 

First, I do not know how anyone goes to a park with flip flops, but every female under the age of 30 had them on. I am old school and couldn't fathom wearing anything but my running shoes. And my feet still hurt at the end of the day.

Riding a water ride was about the worse thing the boys could have asked of me. Walking around for hours in wet clothes is just not fun. I don't remember it ever fun as a teenager but that didn't mean I didn't do it. Luckily, it never occurred to the boys that you could get wet in street clothes. We avoided the entire water section.

When I laid my head on the pillow last night, my first prayer of thanksgiving was for that sixteen year old boy who had one too many corn dogs at lunch didn't upchuck all over us while riding the Flying Falcon. It was a close call. Really close call.

I was in bed and asleep by 9:03. Wes was asleep at 8:15, snoring at 8:30.

And then I woke up with three big gray hairs. I guess the seven hour day filled with riding roller coasters did more than I ever imagined. As I began to pluck them out, Wes asked if I really thought I would reverse the aging process by removing them. Maybe not, but I was grayless today.

But don't let all of this make you think for a moment that I didn't ride some rides because the park is known for coastin', and I did plenty of it. I squealed as loud as Evan or Keagan with the pure joy of steep falls, sharp turns, and dizzying spins.

Until next time...Let's hope it is at least another year so that my feet and hair have time to recover.