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A Funny Little Story

This weekend Chris and I took Bean to the Orlando Science Center for a day of Big Boy fun.  In the exhibit about weather and the earth, I took a minute to sit down and rest while Chris took Bean around and showed him everything.  After a 15 minute time-out, I headed back into the exhibit to look for Bean and Chris.

When I found them, they were standing next to a machine that looked like a giant tube you send through the drive-thru teller line at the bank.  It was a clear tube about 10 feet tall that opened from the side.  Over the tube was a big sign.

“EXPERIENCE HURRICANE FORCE WINDS!”

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Just as I realized that the giant tube was actually a giant wind tunnel, I saw Chris pick up Bean and step into the tube with him.  I thought, “Surely he is not taking our child into a hurricane simulator.  Surely, surely he is not.”

Oh, but he was.

I picked up my pace and bounded across the room just as Chris and Bean were stepping inside and shutting the door.  Quickly, Chris gave me a thumbs up and shut the two of them inside.

I tried not to freak out or anything.  Chris has good judgment and he wouldn’t put our son in danger.

But then the wind began to blow.  And it blew harder.  And faster.  And stronger.  I kept my eyes glued to Bean, who looked terrified but still kind of excited.  Finally, I stepped in and threw the door open when I saw him bury his head in Chris’s shoulder, holding his eyes.

“CHRIS!” I yelled.  “YOU CAN’T TAKE A 22 MONTH OLD CHILD INTO A HURRICANE SIMULATOR!”

“Why not?” he asked, irritated that I had stopped the fun.

“Because the wind is going to blow 55 miles an hour straight into his little face!”

“So?”  Chris said.

“So, look at him!”

We both stopped and looked at Bean.  His hair was sticking straight up and he looked like he’d just seen a ghost.  His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open.

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“Windy,” Bean said.

“Yeah, Buddy,” said Chris, smoothing Bean’s hair back down.  “It’s pretty windy.”

“IT’S 55 MILES AN HOUR!” I shrieked.

Then Chris leaned into Bean’s ear and whispered, “Mom’s a weenie.”

“Mom’s a weenie,” Bean giggled.

Whatever.

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