We’ve been getting Goo excited over our trip to Cedar Point since, well, February-ish when we first booked our hotel. As the date got closer, her excitement rose higher than the Top Thrill Dragster, until she was asking every day how many days left and jumping up and down with giggles when we’d give her the answer.
Sometimes the universe has other plans, though, right?
Sometimes the universe just sucks.
The ten-hour ride to Cedar Point wasn’t as long as it’s been in the past. We read books and played an alphabet game. We pointed out all the new things on the road, different types of trees, animals, buildings. Goo fell asleep face-down in the book Knuffle Bunny more than once. I read the manuals to the Rolleiflex and Leica, ate some pop tarts.
When we reached Cedar Point, Goo and Chris were both practically melting in their seats with grins and jabbing their fingers toward the windows as they pointed to the lake, to boats, to the rollercoasters, to the beach. I smiled and settled in my chair. This was going to be a great vacation. The first one in years!
But the next morning, Chris woke up ill with a fever, headache, muscle aches, nausea, all kinds of awful stuff, and wound up sitting on the sidelines as Goo and I rode some rides in Snoopy Park. One ride on the Monster with Goo, and he was ready to go back to the hotel. By then he could barely stand without turning green.
No. This couldn’t happen. My husband could not be sick while on vacation to his favorite place in the whole world.
I had to put my foot down. Yes, we drove (he drove) the ten hours here, and we were going to drive the ten hours back. I asked the hotel office if we could postpone our stay, and they let us do so with smiles and well-wishes (Cedar Point rocks like that). I returned to the car to Goo crying and Chris half-asleep at the wheel and told them we were going back home, that I planned the trip for the weekend of Father’s Day, which also happens to be the weekend before his birthday.
The ride home was just awful. Goo was brokenhearted, Chris was brokenhearted, and I had serious anxiety over who was next to endure whatever this illness was. I did my best to cheer them both up.
We would be going back in mid to late June! It would be hot enough to swim!
We would be going back on Father’s Day! Isn’t that a sweet present?
We were going to have so much more fun because everyone was going to feel great (knock on wood).
Despite the dismal atmosphere of the car, we did find some laughs as I read Tom Lichtenfield books. We also saw one of the most beautiful sunsets of our entire lives and rode home toward a lightning storm.
And if you’ll notice, there are no pictures in this post. That’s because the roll of film from the Leica had nothing on it. Most likely my own error, as I put the full reel on top of the tank instead of the bottom (Goo had started to run a fever and my brain was elsewhere).
Twenty-four pictures–of Goo on the beach of Lake Eerie, of our car ride to Cedar Point, of yesterday’s afternoon with the trains–Gone.
Is this the Universe’s way of telling me to move on from this awful weekend and look forward to our real vacation to Cedar Point?
19 more days until our vacation. Please nobody cough on us.