Lady: "Yes. She is tall enough."
Mags: "Finally! I've been waiting my whole life to go on this ride."
She had waited her whole life, meaning all three years and nine months. When I heard the lady say this, I felt the blood drain from my face and I wanted to throw up. I measured Mags before we left, with shoes on, and she wasn't tall enough. I thought I was safe from this experience. Had she grown in a week? It seemed that way. She was just about four and they were going to let her on? So, I asked the lady, "Isn't there an age requirement?" The lady wasn't catching my drift and said, "Nope, she is free to go on. The entrance is right there. There isn't much of a wait if you wah wah wah wah wah wah." I didn't hear the rest...obviously.
Panicked, I looked at Chris and my dad. They both assured me it would be OK. Two men I trusted with my own life were reassuring me. Never mind there was Mags, who was attempting to pull my arm out of my socket screaming, "Let's go people!" We left Tuck and Meme (my mom) behind while we went on "THE TOWER OF TERROR". Tuck wanted nothing to do with it. One ride was plenty for him a year ago. "NEVER AGAIN" were his exact words.
I had to remind myself that Mags was a different child. I mean, her favorite ride at Disney was "Snow White's Scary Adventures" because it had the old witch in it. Maybe I was overreacting to this a bit. So, off we went. The lady was right. There was absolutely no wait and we walked right in. Dammit.
If you've never been on this ride, you begin in a pitch black room. TV's flicker on and explain what happened to the "hotel" you are in and how it is now haunted. This part didn't phase Mags. She actually held my dad's hand so that he wouldn't be scared. She obviously didn't see the trepidation on my face.
Next, they release you from the pitch black room and you walk to the line where you wait for the "elevator"...which is the actual ride. My husband grabbed me around the waist at this point as Mags twirled, sang and giggled the whole way. Me? I was hoping it was a typical Disney line where you had to weave through three miles of a metal maze just to get to where you wait. Nope. Not today. The seas parted for Mags and we only had to wait a few minutes for the elevator of horror.
I knew they would re-measure her before letting her on the elevator. She must have shrunk by now. Sure enough, the young man dressed as a hotel bell boy came over, took Mags by the hand and measured her. I thought at this point we were home free. Then, to my dismay, the young man put Mags back in line to wait for the next ride and said, "She's good to go". I wanted to punch him in the face. Again I got reassuring looks from my men.
Mags was so excited I thought she would burst, so I just let myself relax a little. Nothing would happen to her. We were right there. Then the doors opened and my whole perspective went back to horrible thoughts.
We were in the very front row. Of course we were. We strapped Mags in. The click of the seat belt never sounded so loud. It went like this in the row: my dad, Mags, me, Chris. Chris tried to grab my hand but both of them were locked on Mags. Just then, the doors to the elevators closed sealing our doom. Right before we took off, I exchanged a quick look with my dad, who now looked more like me. He also had both his hands gripped on Mags' shoulder. Then we started to move.
Slow ride up. Check. Creepy story with ghosts. Check. Twilight Zone music. Check. I leaned in to ask, "You alright, Baby Girl?" She shushed me and said, "I'm tryin' to listen." Then the doors closed again and I knew. There was no time to jump ship. There was no escaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaape! Holy crap! UP, DOWN, UUUUUUUUUP! DOOOOOOOOOOOWN!
My mind was racing as fast as we were falling. I couldn't see her. It was too fast. Was she OK? What kind of mother am I? She has to be crying. Wow, this is fast. When is this going to end? I am going to hurt Chris. Never again! NEVER AGAIN! I don't remember it being this long. Can she breath? My stomach is in my throat. What if she puked? Would I feel it on my hand? I can't hear her screaming. Why is it so frigging dark? They need an emergency light for freaked out moms. Chris is dead meat! OH! Thank God...it is over!
We came to a stop. All three of us immediately leaned into Mags. She was just sitting there. In unison we asked, "You OK Mags?" She crossed her arms, got this kick butt expression on her face and responded:
"OH YEAH! THAT WAS DARN STINKIN' AWESOME!
LET'S DO IT AGAIN!"
Maybe in a few hours, Mags. I need to find my stomach first.