To Hell and Back

A week ago my family packed up our bags, piled in the Suburban, and headed to Houston for my youngest brother's wedding. Eight hours in the car with five children (including a baby). In the middle of a heat and humidity wave. With a baby whose favorite thing to do right now is pierce your eardrum with a screaming screech that should be patented by the Department of Defense as a new weapon of mass destruction.

This past Friday, we took the four oldest children to Six Flags. We had free tickets. The lines were short. My kids are happy eating a picnic out of the back of the car, so I spent NO MONEY! (Except for the 8000 dollars in gas.)

Is it a sign that I am getting old that I preferred the trip to the wedding over going to Six Flags?

Seriously. I was so glad to watch my children have a wonderful time at Six Flags. To see how they have grown braver and taller and so are able to experience all sorts of new rides. But, it was 106 degrees. It was humid. I almost blacked out on a roller coaster because of the number of G's it pulls on some wicked spirals (and my dehydration probably contributed as well.) On the plus side I extended my record streak to three in a row of Six Flags trips without vomiting.

I left Six Flags feeling like a wienie. But after a little reflection I realized something profound. People often imagine Hell being hot. That is probably true. But it will also be humid. And there will be little misting machines that will fool you into believing they will cool you down. Only, any time you approach one you will be rebuffed by a herd of children demons. You will be forced to ride roller-coasters that would appear to be fun. But you will exit each one feeling disoriented, dizzy, and certain that any moment you will actually witness your stomach exiting your mouth. To top it all off, you will be tormented by a nagging feeling that you should be enjoying yourself, that this should all be fun. And underneath in your heart of hearts you will know that this Six Flags will never close and allow you to mercifully go home.

When I was young I used to believe that heaven would be Six Flags all the time. Now I know, that is Hell.