Recently, my husband Joey and I surprised our seven-year-old grandson Jeremy with passes to Busch gardens. It was the first day of spring break, and I owed myself a birthday present. It had been at least 15 years since we had last gone. Joey and I have spent a lifetime acting like tourists at the nearby attractions. Yet, Jeremy had never been to any of the many renowned theme parks the Sunshine State offers. Thus far, he has only experienced county fairs, community festivals, and local celebrations.
Luckily the weather was perfect that day despite what the weatherman had predicted. The sun was shining, and there was a lovely breeze. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize the “Food and Wine Festival” was happening. So the smell of all the delicious delights immediately tempted my tastebuds, even though we had just eaten before we left the house.
Food and wine booths were set up around a large courtyard area to lure you in as you entered. The positioning was definitely well-calculated to increase sales. Joey and I could have easily been persuaded to start grazing if I hadn’t already prepaid for the “Dine All Day” pass. Knowing how much my hubby usually costs us snacking, that was my best option – especially after realizing that had we dined “A La Cart” for the nine hours we were there, we would have paid a lot more money to eat a lot less food!
“Lions and tigers and bears, oh my,” I kept singing as we marched toward the Train Ride through the Serengeti.
The bonus point was the park was quiet. Patrons were scattered around, and several school groups were on Spring Break field trips. Still, we barely had to wait for anything, so Jeremy could quickly go on the rides he liked more than once. Because he was just under the required height to go on some of the rides alone, Joey and I would tag each other by the exit – depending on how many times our lil man wanted to ride. We rode roller coasters two or three times each before Jeremy had enough. Although we love roller coasters, keeping up with our little energizer bunny all day is hard enough without adding “loop de loops” and “bumpity bumps.”
We must have ridden the bumper cars at least a dozen times. A couple of times, we didn’t even have to change buggies in between if it wasn’t for Jeremy’s insistence. Somehow he kept thinking the other cars he wasn’t in seemed faster. So he’d make me jump to a different vehicle as new patrons picked their spots. Little did he know it was his crappy steering that kept causing us to get stuck. But he refused to let me help, so we just kept driving around in a big circle, getting smashed into by all the other drivers. Fantastic time for the kid, not so much for Grandpa and me. We must have looked like the “Mayhem Guy” from the Allstate Insurance commercial’s relatives on vacation.
“I could only imagine explaining our injuries to an ER doctor without us losing our claim due to pure stupidity?” I thought.
Later, while casually strolling around and skipping through empty line mazes, we met a group of middle school girls who thought my grandson was hitting on them. As we got off one of the coasters, a flock of teenage girls wearing matching neon green t-shirts crisscrossed us to get on the ride. They all wore the same t-shirt with their school name and logo, black shorts, and black high tops. Jeremy immediately noticed their shoes and yelled to them, “I like your Chucks!”
The girls knew he was talking to them. A couple of them made eye contact, but no one responded. As they loaded into their seats, Jeremy tried again to get their attention, calling out a little louder with an even bigger smile. However, they still did not respond with more than a smile.
A few minutes later, when the girls were exiting the ride and we were still trying to figure out where to go next, Jeremy finally got one of the girls’ attention. “I like your shoes,” he said. “My grandma LOVES her Chuck Taylor’s. She has them in every color,” he bragged, pointing over to me and my royal blue feet.
“You like our shoes?” The one girl questioned, looking down at her Converse All-Star footwear.
“Yes, ma’am, he does,” I said with a smile. “Chuck Taylor’s are my favorite.”
By now, several of the girls stood silent, staring at me like I had three heads. Confused, I flipped my foot sideways so they could see the patch with Chuck Taylor’s signature. “Chuck Taylor,” I said.
Still, they looked at me like I was from another world. “Great shoes,” I finally said before slowly turning away.
“Do they not know they’re wearing Chucks?” Jeremy questioned.
“No, lil man, they do not. But you know. You make me proud, my little grasshopper,” I laughed. “I have taught you well.”
Just then, Joey interrupted, yelling, “Where are the maps they always handed out that showed you where the heck you are? It was just like this one,” he said, pointing to a large display map posted near the walkway. “But they were made of paper!” He added.
“There’s an app to download,” some Gen Z passerby remarked as though we should know. “Who cares? We’re leaving soon anyway,” I said in a snappy tone as though I was speaking to one of my own offspring who had already tuned me out and walked away.
“I guess paper maps are just another souvenir from the good old days,” I said to my old man as Jeremy reached for my phone in the side pocket of the wagon.
“I’ll help you up, grandma,” he said with a smirk. “That’s what I’m here for, right? To remember the old and teach you the new.”
“Out of the mouths of babes,” I thought. “That’s why you’re my right-hand man, ” I said as I blew him a kiss.
Laugh on! Peace out!
Lisa DeMarco is a columnist for Villages-News.com.