The Melting World

Only my son has the power to get me to go to Mall of America–the largest indoor shopping mall in the world. I don’t like the crowds, the noise, the plastic shops and the onslaught of buy-buy-buy. But he wants to go there for a reason. Mainly, it is to ride the light-rail train, which terminates there, and then to ride the kiddie rides at the amusement park inside.

Yesterday he decided enough with the kid-sized rides and told me quite strongly that we were going on the roller coaster–I tried to pretend he meant the little roller coaster, but I knew he had something else in mind. We had a few books from the library about roller coasters recently, and they had peaked his interest. Also, his father and he had decided it was fun to run down the hallway at home with their hands in the air and act as if they were on a roller coaster.

So, sure enough, he made it clear with a loud “No!” when we arrived at the pint-sized one, and a tugged me in serious redirection, almost marching me to the big adult version, for which his height was cleared as acceptable by a half-inch, sigh. Folks, I hate rides, I hate dropping and hurtling through space and I hate surrendering my life to a bored-looking stranger in a tiny cotton cap and baby blue overalls fiddling with a few blinking buttons.

But I can’t say no to my son when he is so determined and excited–and he, of course, rode that big roller coaster like it was no big deal while I clung to him in terror. He even had his hands up in the air, just like he had practiced at home, and he’s not even 6. This boy has a hunger for speed and adventure that cannot be denied, and I now realize that, as his mom, I’m going to get to a taste of living on the edge again and again.