Funfairs are not always fun. Or fair.
Little Man was always a cautious child.
He didn’t start walking until 17 months – and then he did it perfectly. It was as if he practiced at night in his cot when nobody was looking and didn’t reveal his skills until he’d nailed it. That’s my boy – not a huge risk-taker. He has never really been one to climb every (okay, any) tree or jump into rough-housing with the boys. He was always terrified of open staircases, high platforms and long slides at the playground. Riding a bike was not something to even begin contemplating until he turned seven and even then, it was – how do I put this delicately? – interesting. My gentle boy was always far more at home with his feet firmly rooted to the ground, building genius constructions with Lego, blocks and Zoobs.
Every time we’ve ever gone to a fun fair, he’s politely, yet strongly declined offers to go on the scary rides (and by scary, I mean the kiddie-coaster) and been more than happy to watch as we’ve put our lives on the line.
In stark contrast, Hubby and I are scaryrideaholics. We even went to Disneyworld on honeymoon (romantic sunsets on deserted beaches are so overrated, people). So, you can imagine our delight when this week, at the Perth Royal Show, Little Man suddenly (and out of nowhere) expressed the desire to go on his first ever scary ride. I had to stay on the ground (grumble) with Baby G while Hubby, Miss M and Little Man got on the ride and this allowed for some excellent photographic opportunities.
We probably should have known better and rather initiated Little Man into the world of scary rides with something tamer, but he did choose this and you know what they say to do when opportunity knocks…
I need to interject here.
You know how, when you’re on a ride at a funfair, it always ends too soon? How it seems like you have to get off as soon as you’ve started to get into it? Yeah – well, let’s just say we got our money’s worth (FYI – $6 per person…$18 for the three of them) here. In the time it took for this ride to finally end, I managed to take 86 photos. Yes, you read right. Eighty six. This ride took f o r e v e r. Which would have been brilliant had Little Man not been getmeouttahere-terrified and hating every minute. I could see the abject fear and horrified regret on his face – even at warp speed. Let’s just say I was concerned about the fact that I hadn’t packed spare pants.
Here’s the part where I admit I am a bad mum.
I laughed. Boy did I laugh. I had tears pouring down my cheeks. I am not sure if it was because I could see how desperately hard Hubby was trying to calm him down while also flying wildly through space, or the total lack of concern or awareness displayed by his sister, the thrill-seeker. Was it the irony of this being his choice and the dawning on him that he had chosen oh-so-badly? Maybe it was nervous laughter because I was totally helpless to stop any of it. Or that it seemed like it was never going to end. I don’t know. But when I look at the photos of his face, I start shrieking all over again.
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Posted on J October, 2012, in Family, Life, Motherhood, Parenting and tagged bad mommy, bad mum, cautious child, Disneyworld, first ever scary ride, Fun fair, gentle son, Honeymoon, kiddie-coaster, lego, lego blocks, Perth Royal Show, postaweek2012, riding a bike, roller-coaster, romantic sunsets, scary ride, scary rides, tears pouring down my cheeks, terrified child on scary ride, walking at 17 months, when opportunity knocks, Zoobs. Bookmark the permalink. 10 Comments.