Family fun...

My sister and her three boys have been here for the past several days, from the East coast. We've been having a great time. Our kids are relishing every precious minute with their cousins and my mom is so happy to have her home bursting with young life. 

I've been enjoying lots of laughs with my sweet sister, whom I miss very much.  Only fourteen months apart in age, we grew up doing everything together. We shared a bedroom, played on nearly all the same teams when we were young and went to high school and college together. She graduated top in her high school class and again, summa cum laude from college. She's like our father, extremely intelligent and highly social. She's funny, patient, energetic and she's also a great wife and mom. I've so enjoyed our time together, catching up and watching our kids play together.

Last night, we decided to take the kids over to Cracker Jax, an outdoor fun park with bumper boats, go carts, gooney golf and more.  We've gone the last two summers they've come to town and, although it's the hottest part of the year, the kids have a ball. It's funny how kids don't notice when it's over 110 degrees. The seven of them were completely unaffected by the flaming hot wind that was singeing the hair from our arms, while us adults took turns standing in the six inch spot of shade that one skinny tree provided. 

Poor Colton was the only one who did not meet the height requirements to ride alone. After a slight quivering of the lower lip as the teenage worker thoughtlessly pushed him back to allow the other kids to stampede toward the go carts, I quickly took him back to the ticket booth so we could find a solution. The only solution, we were told, was for me to wear the pre-paid wrist band and purchase additional passenger tickets for him. Although I had no interest in riding, I realized that I was the only one over 18 who was available to take him. 

I've mentioned before how competitive certain members of our family are and when you strap us into motorized go carts and send us out on a track together, there's a good chance it's going to get ugly. The big problem for Colton and I, who were riding together, was that the double cars were much slower than the cars made for one rider. The rest of the competitive family got the single cars, while me and Mr. Ultra Competitive were sent to the double car. The teenage workers barked out their warnings, "No bumping, no ramming, no running into the rails."  We shook our heads, as if we agreed to the no bumping part and off we went.  Colton and I took the early lead, only because they let us out first and made the others wait a good 15 seconds.  

In my three point harness, I could barely stretch my pitifully short leg far enough down to fully depress the gas pedal.  In these cars, unless the pedal is completely on the floor, the car does not reach top speed.  I did the best I could to slip out of the seat harness so I could actually reach the floor. This move caused a simultaneous cramp in both my calf and my foot. Looking over at Colton, who was barking out, "Faster, mom, they're catching us," I knew that this was no time to show weakness. So, I gritted my teeth and took the inside corner on every turn, successfully holding off the surge of smaller, faster cars. The car squealed and jumped, bouncing us around like pop corn in a microwave. My elderly spine felt like it was literally dragging on the ground, while my calf muscle had rolled up like a monkey fist. Colton, on the other hand, was unaffected by the perils of age and continued to yell for me to go faster, as he kept a close eye on the competition. "Come on mom, we've got to win."  

We did extremely well for about ten laps and continued to lead the pack of crazy little people. Because our group was practically the only ones there, the teenage workers allowed the kids to ride much longer than other times we'd been there.  Finally, around the eleventh lap, my foot slipped from the pedal just long enough for my nephews to pass me on both sides. Colton was heartbroken. "Mom, how could you let that happen? Now they're going to win."  My lower back muscles had settled into rhythmic spasms while the cramp in my calf muscle had worked it's way down into my toes.  I wasn't sure how to break the news to Colton, but I was done. As the rest of the kids whizzed past us, I explained to Colton the physics of the bigger car, with more weight but the same little engine. Once he fully embraced the fact that we were at a slight disadvantage, he extended his forgiveness. I was grateful.

I took a few more trips around the track with my sister's youngest son, who could also not ride alone. He was much more fun to ride with because he couldn't care less about winning. He was just happy to have the wind slapping his face and as we sped around the track, he smiled with glee. Although I was glad to spend those laps with him, I was thankful when he and Colton finally decided they were finished. I was exhausted and sore.

Today, at the grocery store, I paid a little more for coffee. With my sore back, I wasn't able to easily reach the cheaper brands on sale, which were on the bottom shelf. Normally, paying more would really bother me. Today, not so much. I wasn't the only one who left the track wounded, as all of the little people had pretty good blisters on their hands from gripping the steering wheel for the four hours of continuous driving they did. I was grateful for my old calloused hands as I limped to the check-out with my expensive coffee. And as the kids asked when could go back and drive the go carts again, I smiled and said, "Maybe next year, when Aunt Kimmie comes to town."

Comments

[CoachLou]

Sheila,

I read this a few days ago and just laughed out loud, thought about putting LOL but my kids don't like me to be hip, anyway I just love your writing and enjoy your experiences. I know what you mean with the "beating" you take in those cars. Funny it wasn't so hot or the beatings so rough when we were younger. I was wondering the next time Kim and her family come to town do you plan on completing your growth spurt (so that you can better reach the pedals). Just think the trees out there will be a year older and be able to provide more shade. Keep 'em coming, I enjoy them. Here is to more Family Fun.

Coach Louie

[S]

My kids don't like me to be hip either and none of them believe I was ever "cool" - just another disappointment in the aging process. Yes, I do realize that my growth spurt ended in the 8th grade, so I'm thinking I'll wear high heels next summer and bring a cane. If the heels don't help, I'll just use the cane to depress the gas pedal. I do plan to ride alone next summer, in the faster car, so I can actually win, which is very important to me when driving around a track.

So glad to hear that you enjoy reading. I've been a little short on time lately and have fallen dreadfully behind in my blogging. The little people over here are wearing me thin and by the end of the day, I'm cooked.

Looking forward to our team party tomorrow night - hope the girls have fun!

See you soon, Coach Louie!