Jason, the kids and I spent the weekend at Legoland with my mom. There’s just something about a Florida theme park in July. I can’t quite explain it. No wait, let me try.
It was about 9,800 degrees Fahrenheit. We were dressed in SPF 90 and UV resistant hats. The sweat tried desperately to fight it’s way out of our pores but the thick coat of sunblock made it impossible. We stood in line with other parents who were saying the same exact things we were:
Get off the railing. Stand up. Stop putting your fingers in our mouth. Don’t lean on that man. Do you think that man likes being leaned on? Well, he doesn’t! Get behind the yellow line. Do you want to get us kicked out of the park? We’re not spending another $14 on popcorn. You just went to the bathroom. Sit back. Stand up. Move forward. Get back here. Stop. Don’t. Please. Enough. Pick it up. Put it back. Stay right there. Keep walking. I don’t know. Stop fighting. Leave her alone. Leave him alone. Get together for a picture. Smile. No crying. Smile. What a great day! Did everyone have fun? Let’s go in a circle and say our favorite part of the day. Stop or I’m putting you in timeout. Smile. Did you have fun?
Annie Bea rode her first big roller coaster called “The Dragon” and she loved it. During the free falls and the twists and turns, I looked over at her and she was totally unphased. Boss girl.
But the thing I’ll remember most about our trip to Legoland was not the laughter and fun times and ice cream for lunch. It wasn’t seeing my mom snuggle up in bunkbeds next to the kids in our Lego cabin. And it wasn’t the giant swimming pool filled with Legos. It’s Aiden.
As we packed up to go home, we came across another family doing the same thing. But it wasn’t going so well for them. While they were distracted, their 12-year-old son had dumped every piece of clothing (mom’s bras included) out of every suitcase onto the ground in the parking lot. He found his iPad and moved on. That’s when his mom turned around.
Aiden’s Mom: Holy shit! What the fuck happened? Fuck fuck fuck.
Word-for-word. That’s what I would have said.
Let it rip, girlfriend.
Go for it.
You packed those bags and you deserve it.