Arms and Legs Inside the Ride at All Times

We went to Lagoon again for Brian's work Lagoon day.  Bridget and I dressed for success (jeans and T-shirts because the less skin that makes contact with those disgusting ride seats, the better) and we all used plenty of sun screen.  For some reason, being a year older made Bridget more skittish than she was last year.  The first hour or so that we were there she maintained an I-Don't-Want-To position.

Here she is at the first ride watching and listening to some dumb guys yell in mock fear:

She left that line without going on the ride.  Next we tried the Paratrooper with that rare breed, Perfectionist Lagoon Employee, who took 20 minutes to unload and then load the ride. 

Once we got going on this thing I didn't think it would ever be over.  It was fun listening to Bridget squeal with delight, though.  Can you tell  how hot it was already?

Since Bridget only wanted to do rides "as a family" at this point, we went to the Ferris wheel. 

That's when she started "getting" Lagoon again:

That was so awesome, we decided to do another ride as a family.  It would turn out to be my last.  Feel free to skip this next story...

Once upon a time I was a student at Rick's College in Rexburg, Idaho.  A boy named Travis (his name has not been changed to not protect him and even if I had made up a name, I would have chosen Travis) asked me to the Valentine's Day dance.  If only he had just asked me, that is where the story would end.  But, no, we were at Rick's College and that meant Travis had to be "creative."  Travis was bold in his creativity - a scavenger hunt!  The Sixth Roommate, Bridger, took me all over Rexburg in the freezing cold and snow getting clues.  The last clue, the one that held the key to my wildest dreams coming true, was at a place whose name I have forgotten, but they had something called an orbitron.  I was strapped by the ankles and wrists into this thing (I was too short, so I had to have a kung-foo grip on the handles to stay in it once it started) and when they flipped the switch, I was spun and tipped every which way at a break-neck speed.  I think it was only on for a minute and I don't know if words were coming out of my mouth, but I know I was screaming in my head to make it stop.  Bridger had to help me to the car and back into our third floor apartment.  I passed by the visiting Relief Society presidency in our living room, there to address our concerns, went straight to the bathroom and puked my guts out.  The next day when I woke up for my first class, I couldn't see myself in the mirror and I couldn't straighten my arms out.  On the day of the dance, Travis flirted with the waitress and every other girl that came within five feet of him and I'm holding my arms like a pirate in our dance photo.  Argh!

And that's why you should never go on a date with a guy named Travis.

After the Tilt-a-Whirl as a family, Daddy took Bridget on every ride she wanted to try while I found shade and sat with my head between my knees.  Best Dad EVER.

On the way home from six hours at Lagoon Bridget asked if we could play Go Fish once we got home.  Always thinking ahead...