But even she was wary of some of the rides, like all the ones that went upside down. She was convinced that she would fall out if she was inverted, which I understand is a pretty big deal for a kid.
But I kept working on her and finally got her to go on a kiddie roller coaster. No inverted 360s, no being flung at top speed to the sky, no horrific visions of falling out of the car. It was a basic track coaster that didn't get 10 feet off the ground.
I convinced her she was now a big kid, and this is what big kids do. I played up the fact that we'd share the experience of her first roller coaster ride together. Trusting me, she smiled and gave me a cautious "yes."
This coaster, while small in stature, was deceivingly quick. The only thing holding her in was a lap bar that really just rested on my lap. So, she slid back and forth on the seat.
Plus, it wasn't the smoothest ride. The car jerked us around unexpectedly, which caused her to cling to my arm with a death grip. Add the noise that came from the click-clack of the track and wheels, and you had one hellacious ride for a preschooler.
When we got off the ride, she was beside herself, sobbing uncontrollably. Other parents passed, some nodding in understanding, others shaking their heads in disapproval. That father-daughter trust on which I prided myself was strained. I looked down at her big, doe eyes — shrink-wrapped in tears — and felt that I had let her down.
As I sat there, trying to calm her, I thought back to my first roller coaster ride, Montezooma's Revenge at Knott's Berry Farm. I remember standing in line, dreading what was going to happen. The queue for the ride moved quickly because it was simply a single-loop ride.