Why Amusement Park Rides are Not Amusing, and No Carnies Were Harmed at the Local Carnival

But I was.

First of all, I'll say it right now -- I hate rides, have always hated rides, and hate rides more than ever since Friday's fiasco at a local carnival.

Come to think of it, I'm not too partial to carnivals either because they are weirder than all-get-out. But at their best, these events are fun, family-oriented events.

A friend called me and told me she noticed there was a local carnival at a church's parking lot and wouldn't it be fun if Ari and I could go with her and check it out? Reluctantly, I agreed.

I was nauseated upon entering the place because I saw wild rides for adults that are miraculous to survive (maybe why the carnival was on a church's property?). I couldn't look at all the contortions people were allowing themselves to be put through. And then my own childhood fears reared their ugly heads: what if that flying saucerlike contraption fell on my head? Things like that.

We were looking for the kiddie rides (which are still a challenge for me to tolerate) for Ari's sake (that's my story and I'm sticking to it), and I was praying that there would be none and we'd have to resign ourselves to eating lots of junk and playing the throw-the-dart-in-the-balloon-and-win-a-stuffed-animal game.

But there were a few kiddie rides. My heart sank.

Ari and I first rode this slow train, which was too fast for me. My child looked bored.

Then we upped the ante and went on one of those slow carousel-type rides inside creatures that float up and down from time to time. We were in the dragon creature, and Ari was safely buckled into my lap. As reported by my friend, Ari had a HUGE smile. I loved that she was clapping her hands and rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the background music. She was so happy, it filled my heart with joy -- even though I was praying for the ride to end and I wore a fake smile so should Ari turn to look at my face, she wouldn't see a miserable momma.

The fun really started when we got off the ride. I was holding Ari with one arm and slowly getting out of the hellish contraption when I realized my equilibrium was thrown way off.

I fell toward my left side with the baby in my right arm. Motherly instinct kicked in, and I held onto Ari like a running back holds onto a football (a quality running back, that is), and the child thankfully was not hurt -- just a little shaken. She cried for 30 seconds. On the other hand, I wasn't doing so well.

As I fell, my left hand grabbed the top of the fence surrounding the ride. My left leg scraped onto the concrete ground. Yes, I was a diagonal Stretch Armstrong. I didn't know my arm had that rubberlike capacity. And, yes, that's spelled P-A-I-N.

For the baby's sake, I was calm. My friend didn't see the fall, but I told her all about it. I hope she doesn't feel guilty for suggesting this outing (Yeah, right). Seriously, after that incident, we said there'd be no more rides, and we went on to playing those carnie games and winning stuffed animals (I like stuffed animals because they can't hurt you).

So as I laid in bed with an ice pack under my Stretch Armpit and another on top of my shoulder, I had time to reflect over lessons learned:

• Tylenol for arthritis really rocks.
• I still hate rides.
• My baby is the coolest person I know.
• I could be recruited by the NFL.
• My baby is the coolest person I know. (Yes, I said it before, but it's so true, I have to say it again.)

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.