So the housekeeper comes on Wednesday, which makes it a good time to be out of the house. Since I’m on vacation this week, I planned to take Parker to the batting cages, which is on the list of things to do this summer, and for which I'd already gotten a groupon thing for 15 minutes of free batting. On the morning of, I discovered that the batting cages didn't open until noon, which required about 5 seconds of consideration before I resolved to go golfing first.
Parker has started to become a pretty decent golfer, and his enthusiasm for the game always lasts the whole game, so it is a pretty nice way to spend a couple of hours. We went to the driving range first, and then played the little 3-par course they have in Alameda. Parker cleared the creek on the first hole, and played some intermittently decent golf. I played an initially pretty good round, getting a four on the first 6 holes before things went all to hell. Parker shot an 87 against my 40.
After golf we still had time to kill so we had an early lunch, at Parker's request, of Giant Burger, which he refers to as "the dogs, fries, and shakes place" for obvious reasons. As luck would have it, the golf course, the batting cages, and the dogs, fries, and shakes place are all convenient to one another, so we were at the batting cages 3 minutes before they opened up.
Parker has played one season of t-ball, and seems to have an appetite for the sport, so I'm supporting it. We saw a ballgame in Reno, and watched some games on TV, and have played a good bit of catch, not to mention the ever-presence of Parker's Kansas City cap. So we hit the batting cages, and did a solid 15 minutes in the 25-30mph cage, where Parker and I alternated turns, and I attempted to teach him the finer points of hitting. He got a few good hits in, and I could see him picking it up. I took the opportunity to spend some time in the 45-50mph cage, and then did a turn for kicks in the 70mph cage. I was hitting the 50mph balls pretty well, but I couldn't get more than a foul tip on the 70mph balls. Later that night, my hands were swollen from this little excursion, my wedding ring trapped behind the fattened sausage of my finger.
Over lunch we'd discussed the afternoon's plans, and following some discussion of how hot was hot enough for Waterworld, we discovered from the miracle of the iPhone that it was going to be 86 degrees in Concord, which by any reasonable definition would have to be hot enough for Waterworld, and weighing the options over fries and shakes, I decided to go all-in on the day of fun.
We dropped by the house to get our suits and other supplies, and then off we went to Concord and the delights of Waterworld. As frequent blog readers will know, Parker's status as someone over 48" has opened up whole new realms of experience. And waterworld was no exception. No longer was he relegated to the kiddie area, with it's sad little 10' slides and 3' pools of water. No, Parker was now rightly entitled to the most gruesome sluices that science had yet devised for human thrill-seekers, and Parker was determined to work every last bit of it.
For about four solid hours Parker and I worked Waterworld over for all it was worth. Since he was eligible for every ride in the park, you can be certain that we visited every one of them. Parker didn't have a firm plan in mind, and he actually wanted to start in the kiddie area, with one of the slides for 42" kids, but from there we went across the park to a tangle of slides known as Hurricane, followed quickly by a vertiginous monstrosity known as Cliffhanger, which led to a leisurely trip to the wave pool before the 45 or so seconds of pure terror known as Tornado. Luckily each of these hair-raising experiences was separated by considerable line-waiting, so there was plenty of change to recuperate.
Parker was a tough guy throughout, and was all enthusiasm except for a few line-waiting moments where he half-joked about not going through with it. But on the Tornado, I saw real terror in his eyes as the two of us and our little orange float were sent down a 40' wall and then ~37' up its counterpart, gripping the rubber handles for our dear lives, and screaming our lungs out. Just that one time he seemed to question the wisdom of what we were doing, and then just for a moment. The rest of the day he was a thrill-junkie, running us from one watery drop to the next, as quickly as his legs and his attention span would allow him.
For my part, the 43-year old father, I don't mind telling you that this park kicked my ass. I'm up for thrills as much as the next kid, but in this case I was thrown about, and dunked, and jostled just a bit more than is suitable for a man of my age. I went down one waterslide that was completely enclosed, coffin-like, in a black void of rushing liquid. On another I caught air multiple times, which was fun until the landing, which somehow happened on the same side of my head each time. And then there was the pool of water awaiting me at the bottom of a multi-story drop, which stopped my descent and filled my nose with highly chlorinated water. All of which conspired upon our return home to give me an early and unexpected bedtime on our lovely new living room couch.
Parker had a great time, and I did as well, and I think that's enough in itself. I don't think that all days need to be particularly memorable for them to be good and worthwhile. But I do like to have memorable days with my kids, too, when I can, and this was one of them. I'm not sure how much of Parker's world actually sticks in his strange little brain at any given time, but I like to think that some pieces of yesterday accumulated up there. It was a good day.
