Adventures With Mimi 4 --- The Beginning

Looking through my old emails, I came across one from Mom.
It was her response to the carnival blog.
Ah the Runaway Mine Train, where it all began. You know that moment in your life when you realize your mom has a quirky/evil side to her? This is the story of my moment.
Mom had volunteered to be a chaperon on my seventh grade choir trip to Six Flags. We had a pretty good time, our choir sung for some competition that we didn't even place in because we were all focused on the Six Flags trip. When we got there we did the usual hum-bug things that people who ABSOLUTELY HATE ROLLER COASTERS AND ANY OTHER RIDE COMBINING HEIGHT AND SPEED do, because I am one of those people. Apparently mom is not.
Oh so cunning was her approach....
"Let's go on this one, I used to ride it all the time when I was your age, it's fun, come on!"
After I thoroughly grilled her and was satisfied that this ride was going to be slow and all sissy-fied, I climbed into the car beside her.
The ride starts off by slowly going through this house set up with dolls or something in each room. I can't really recall, I think my brain has blocked those memories out.
Anyway we're going nice and slow and I'm almost convinced this is going to be fun, when I notice we're heading into a wall.
"Mom? There's a wall up there."
"Uh huh."
"Are we going to hit it, I mean because we're kind of speeding up..."
"No, we won't hit it." Hee hee hee!
"It sure looks like it, I mean... what are you laughing about? Mom? Mom!"
"Hee hee hee hee!!!"
"Seriously Mom we're about to crash into a wall and you're AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!"
That's how the rest of the ride went, me swearing that I'll never do anything she suggests ever again and screaming my head off while she laughs like a drunken hyena.
She loved it. I however am scarred for life. James, you can blame her for my inability to pass a roller coaster without hyperventilating and yelling "You're sick! A sick, twisted mother!"

***Notes from Mom***
You make it sound so bad......

No comments: