It’s the 1st Sunday of September and that means it’s Storytelling Sunday, hosted as always by the lovely Sian. My story this month was one that I remembered after reading some of the comments left in relation to this post.
In the summer of 1993, I went on my 1st trans-Atlantic holiday to the USA with my cousin L. We went to Boston, as we had relatives there who had kindly offered to put us up for three weeks. The son of the family turned 18 while we were there (I was 25, L was 23) and his birthday treat was a day at Riverside Water Park in Springfield, Massachusetts.
To be honest, I’m not that much of a fan of large amusement parks, as I tend to be overwhelmed by them. Not to mention half scared to death! My cousin, however, was keen to try out everything, and I mean everything.
“I want to go on that,” she said, pointing …
… I’m pretty certain that I gulped audibly.
“You must be joking, that’s the biggest roller-coaster I’ve ever seen!”
“Yeah,” she smiled, “Brilliant, isn’t it?”
This is the part of the story where I point out that my cousin has a heart condition and has never, ever been allowed on roller-coasters in her life.
So we join the queue and when we get to the sign where it warns about pace makers, heart conditions and the like, I ask her again if she’s sure.
“Oh, yes!” she cries.
“Erm, L. What happens if something happens to you? Your mum won’t like it at all.” (Something of an understatement, wouldn’t you say?)
“Oh, don’t worry. If I die because I’ve gone on this thing, at least I’ll have ridden a roller-coaster. And I won’t have to worry about mum, because I won’t be here. You’re the one who will have to face the music for allowing me to go on the thing in the first place!”
And with that, we hopped aboard and experienced the biggest adrenaline rush of our lives!