It would be alright if other people weren't there.
We took the annual family trip to CP. Last year we spent the night at the Breakers but it was pretty expensive for a crappy hotel room that smelled like Friday's so this time we decided just to go for the day.
We didn't get there until 1 because, well, we had to have McDonalds before we even entered the park. So finally we arrive...we ride all the kiddy rides and little Syd rode the biggest roller coaster she could, the one that Coop wanted nothing to do with. On the way down the big hill, she looked at me and said "I'm not scared, I'm brave!". I also rode the ferris wheel with her...even when my hands were all sweaty at the very top, she kept LEANING OUT to see what was going on at the beach. Coop continues to play it safe, preferring he rides that go around and around in a circle. I figure in about 5 more years, Syd and I will have season passes and go every chance we get for all the big roller coasters. Can't wait!
The real fun of CP, as anyone who has ever been there knows, is the people watching. Oh Lord, today didn't disappoint. Of course there were the usual sweaty, stinky people and those whose seemingly only shower in the past week was their ride on Thunder Canyon. Those are par for the course.
Neck tattoos were big today, and teenagers who brought their baby in a stroller with all their friends, and and I actually saw someone's ass cheeks hanging out of their swimsuit? skirt? something? Suffice it to say, this was not someone who would be in the running for nice ass cheeks..in fact, I felt a little nauseous looking at it and was sooo bummed that I didn't bring my phone so I could shoot a pic of it so everyone could have the same pleasure I did.
Eric and I agreed we felt like we needed to gain 50 pounds, get matching neck and back tats, get a loan at Check Into Cash and show up at Rent a Center to get us some new furniture and a big screen TV too while we're at it. Really we just felt like showering with lots of soap and even that can't get rid of the images that are seared into our brains until we return next time for a refill.
