A man asked his wife what she’d like for her birthday. “I’d love to be six again,” she replied. On the morning of her birthday, he got her up bright and early and off they went to a local theme park.What a day! He put her on every ride in the park: the Death Slide, the Screaming Loop, the Wall of Fear, everything there was!
Wow! Five hours later she staggered out of the theme park, her head reeling and her stomach upside down.
Right to a McDonald’s they went, where her husband ordered her a Happy Meal with extra fries and a refreshing chocolate shake.
Then it was off to a movie, the latest Star Wars epic, a hot dog, popcorn, Pepsi, and M&Ms.
What a fabulous adventure! Finally she wobbled home with her husband and collapsed into bed.
He leaned over and lovingly, asked, “Well, dear, what was it like being six again?”
One eye opened. “You idiot, I meant my dress size.”
The moral of this story: Even when the man is listening, he’s still gonna get it wrong.
I’m posting this old gem today because I know a little of what it’s like to try and be six again.
Over the weekend, we went to our first street festival of the year. In a situation like that, when you’re the mom to a six-year-old, there’s a bit of being six you have to do yourself. Except, when you’re pushing 40, it takes a lot longer to recover from being Six than it used to when you were, say, six.
Being Six means riding a lot of equilbrium-distrupting rides like the Tilt-a-Whirl, the Ferris Wheel, the Whirl-Around Swings, and the Scrambler. Being the Mom of Six means that you get to do some of that, too.
And then it’s time to eat. Cotton candy, Italian ices, nachos, ribbon fries… all the things that Six loves and Mom of Six finds herself regretting four hours later.
Footsore, sunburned, dyspeptic, and off-kilter. Welcome to Monday.
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