Mom, aren't you afraid of heights?

     Now that I wrote yesterday's post, I guess I should write one for today.  It's Phriday again, that means we get to delve into the fears of the author.
     A few years ago, we took the girls to Wisconsin Dells.  We went to Mount Olympus Water Park.  It was a lot of fun.  I was walking up the stairs to get on this monster roller coaster, when my daughter looks up at me and says, "Mom, aren't you afraid of heights?"  "Yes," I answered.  She smiled and we kept walking up the stairs.  We get into the seat and my knees touch the seat in front of me.  I am 5'10" and if my knees are touching, my brothers could never fit in these seats.  Anyway, we buckle in and away we go.  A soon as we leave the platform there is a huge drop, almost straight down.  You go down ways and up ways and side ways and slant ways until you have no idea where you left your stomach, then you start to climb, slowly.  This gives you time to realize how crazy you really are to be sitting on a roller coaster with your daughter who was just tall enough to go on the ride, within an inch.  Things like, "I am the worst mother in the world," flash through your brain.  I look over at my daughter and she looks at me.  We both have that "OMG!" look on our faces and then we realize how high up we really are.  The next step in our journey is looking pretty vertical and it takes us under ground.  We are in complete darkness, all you hear is the roaring of the motors and the screaming of the riders.  You come out in the parking lot and realize that you are going to have to go back through that tunnel.  When I got off that roller coaster, called Hades, my legs were jello and I was so white, I probably looked transparent. While standing there waiting for my stomach to catch up, my daughter looks up at me and says, "That was AWESOME, can we go again?"  She is fearless.            
     That was the first year we went to Wisconsin Dells, my younger daughter was and inch to short to go on Hades, that year.  She stayed on the ground with dad and cried.  We went again the next year and she was tall enough.  I went on Hades again. What was I thinking?  It was awesome the second time too.  The only problem is, when your daughter goes on the coolest coaster first, everything else pales in comparison.