I Want To Do That

"Mommy, I want to do THAT."

We are at Knoebel's Amusement Park as part of our summer vacation. The Phoenix has just rocketed past and Emily (4) is pointing at it. It's the biggest, baddest roller coaster in the park. The big hill boasts a seventy two foot drop.

Ken and I exchange nervous glances. Neither of us are big coaster fans. The rattling and rumbling and twisting and turning makes my heart pound until I feel like it will burst out of my chest. I tilt my head slightly and give Ken my "there is no way I am going on that thing with a four year old" look. He lifts his chin and gives me his "well don't count on me cause I'm not going either" look.

Emily has no fear. I am confident she would love the Phoenix. She's already conquered the Ferris Wheel and the Log Flume. And she forced her Dad to take her on the Skloosh three times in a row.

I imagine Emily sitting on the coaster. I can see her smile as the cars clanked out of the station. She would point and giggle as it clinked up the big hill. He eyes would grow wide when, on reaching the top, she first realizes the magnitude of the drop. Then she would squeal and giggle as the cars roared and plunged back to earth. And there I would be, beside her, gripping the lap bar until my knuckles turned white and praying silently.

It's wonderful that Emily is fearless. She believes that she can do anything. And she is not hampered by her own self proclaimed apprehensions or inhibitions. To her, the world is full of possibilities.

I try to hide my fears from Emily. I don't want the limitations that have grown inside of me to rub off on her. Instead, I hope that her confidence will rub off on me. So I am doing my best to smile and laugh and pretend that rides that twist and drop don't scare the crap out of me.

But the roller coaster? I'm not ready for that. Not today.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Maybe never.

Emily looks at me with hopeful eyes. I am seconds away from saying yes when I realize that Emily won't meet the height requirement. I let out my breath. Thank God. I have an out.

"Is it time for ice cream yet?" I ask in a clear attempt to distract Emily.

"I want chocolate." Emily giggles as she dances and twirls toward the ice cream stand.

I turn to Beth (2) and take her hand. "What kind of ice cream do you want, Jelly Bean?" I ask.

Beth stops, turns and points to the coaster.

"I want to do that!"