We stood at the
lemonade stand just outside the queue, watching as the empty coaster whizzed,
looped, and plunged its way through the morning test run. My young niece and
nephew were giddy with anticipation and ready to bolt to the entrance as soon
as the ride opened. To a seasoned coaster aficionado like myself, The Big, Bad
Wolf was only moderately thrilling, but for the 8-and-under set, it was a
howling beast of high-flying excitement…or white-knuckled terror.
For my
seven-year-old son, it was the latter, but I shrugged it off. He didn't share
his cousins' enthusiasm for thrill rides, so he wasn't going to ride. End of
story…or so I thought. My mom, who had been watching Zack eye the coaster, had
detected something in his demeanor that I had missed. When she whispered to me
that she was certain he was longing to ride, but was losing a battle with fear,
I wasn't so sure. But Nana had a pretty good track record, so I pulled him
aside to ask him myself.
As I talked with my
son, the struggle within him was apparent. He desperately wanted to join in the
fun and venture into uncharted "big kid" territory, but the path
was guarded by a big, bad wolf. He sensed the potential for a "safe"
adventure, but at the tender age of seven, he faltered in the face of this
screaming steel behemoth.
