Sometimes when we’re out together with our daughter like we were today at Hershey Park, my husband and I pretend we’re cast members on the The Bachelor, a junk TV show we indulge in as a family. It can be a little instructive, and, it gives us the added benefit of being able to say silly things like, “I hope you can tell I am trying to open up and be vulnerable so you can get to know me”.
So, while killing time in the long lines at the park, I imagine impressing my ‘date’ with my bravery, facing my fear of roller coasters which I feel sure I would do if we hadn’t already been married thirty years and I wanted him to think I was a real catch, just like the ladies on The Bachelor seem to do. On The Bachelor women are repelling down the sides of buildings with no more than five minutes notice for such outrageous dates, hauling out all their bravery to impress the potential life mate the producers have picked out for them. Why shouldn’t I do the same, here at Hershey Park, even though technically my husband and I are already committed to another fifty years regardless of whether we scream bloody murder together with our daughter for 90 seconds on The Great Bear today or not? Oh, it’s all rather complicated isn’t it? Just trying to distract myself since I was about to get on a scary roller coaster, something I had only done once before and that was when I was nineteen.
By the end of the day we’d forgotten all about The Bachelor, after we spilled the beans to our daughter on the outcome of the alleged ‘Rose Ceremony’ (I got a rose!), and we’d happily ridden on four roller coasters. In the end, despite my fears, I even kind of liked them. A little. Maybe.
More than that though, we’d all had a really fun day.