Battle of the Bumper Boats

Growing up, you could easily say I was your average, good kid. I never got into trouble, except for fighting with my brother. I really don't think anyone would see me at Wal-Mart and mutter, "her parents have their hands full!". My parents have always been active members in their Baptist church, and I was raised with moral, Christian values. My dad a farmer and machinist, my mom a "lunch lady", we were a typical middle class family. While our vacations weren't as lavish as those who went to Disney World or Six Flags, you never could of convinced my brother and I of that. We had a blast on family trips to places like Dog Patch, Silver Dollar City, Magic Springs, The Memphis Zoo, and Branson. One vacation that stands out in my mind took place on a trip to Eureka Springs. At the time, my brother and I were so excited when our sky blue Aerostar van passed by a putt-putt golf and bumper boats complex. After very little begging, my brother and I were being led to the desk by our parents to check in. We wanted to do everything the little complex offered! First on our agenda was definitely the bumper boats! Since my brother and I were far too young to be in the bumper boats alone, we each paired up with a parent. It was decided this bumper boat battle would be between my dad and me versus my mom and my brother. I knew Dad and I had this in the bag. The boats were powered by our pedaling, and Dad and I had legs way longer than either Mom or Nathan. Piece of cake! As we approached the dock to get into our boats, I noticed the water would probably hit my 7-year old knees. So if the battle got ugly, and Mom and Nathan's boat capsized, they wouldn't drown. Don't let those pigtails fool you, I was out for blood! About 10 feet from the dock, before we had even bumped another boat, I noticed my teammate's face looking a bit green. Suddenly, I was the only one pedalling. "Dad! Are you ok? Pull it together!", I screeched as I realized I'd be on my own in this one. Then, in the middle of the small (seriously, puddle deep!) trenches, I had a man overboard. "Are you kidding me?!", is all I could think as I saw my partner, one hand over his mouth, sprinting towards the dock, yelling "I'm seasick! I'm seasick!". As I pedal back to the dock towards a carnie yelling "Sir, get back into your boat!", I realize this war is lost. With defeat on my face, all I could do was hope it didn't rain because, clearly, I doubt my dad's weak stomach could handle that either and I was determined to conquer putt putt.