Parental wiles survive show ordeal
I HAVE a confession ... I have a new-found appreciation for my folks after enduring a chaotic weekend outing I once took for granted.
As youngsters, my brother and I were spoiled when it came to the September school holidays.
A yearly trip to the Flemington Racecourse was all but guaranteed, but it’s been a while since either of us have been.
So we decided to relive our childhood with a trip to the Melbourne Show, and things were pretty different to how we remembered.
Not only did it seem smaller than the wonderland I remembered so fondly, but it felt a hell of a lot more stressful.
After braving the crowds, dodging prams, queuing up for at least half an hour for everything and spending all of my money, I honestly don’t know how my parents did it with two small children in tow.
We really should have paid more attention to their trade secrets, because on Saturday there were a few things my brother and I got wrong from the outset. First off, we got there far too late. Arriving at noon, we started our adventure by cramming ourselves into a packed train at North Melbourne. We also didn’t plan our budget well, or at all. Over-estimating the cashout facilities, we decided not to withdraw any money beforehand. The first thing we did after lining up to get in was line up again for an ATM. Throughout the day I watched as my wallet visibly shrunk at each ride, game and food stall. Speaking of food, it probably wasn't the greatest idea to eat before getting on any rides.
Those moments of sheer terror while the carriage you never really feel secure in spins on its axis while simultaneously swinging upside down were made all the more daunting by the jam doughnuts churning in our stomachs.
Sure, it was a pretty fun day, but we’re unlikely to rush back.
So I feel like a thanks is in order.
Thank you to all the dads out there who agree to sit next to their daughter on the rollercoaster even though it means you’ll be hobbling around for two days afterwards. And to all the mums who storm through the muggy showbag halls to make sure their son gets the $20 plastic bags filled with junk he just couldn’t live without.