I'm still a wus

Saturday morning my two kids and I packed our scooters in my trunk and set out for a trek at the Balboa pier, otherwise known as an impeccable COVID-19 hotspot.

We parked in Balboa Island and took the ferry across the Newport Harbor to the Fun Zone. As we were scootering on the boardwalk, we came across a low-height ferris wheel Elin insisted on riding. So the three of us paid our combined $15 riding fee and boarded the ferris wheel in what turned out to be my journey to self rediscovery. After a few rotations, I began feeling queesy. I mean, buckets of horse$hit, are you telling me I can't even handle this pipsqueeck of a ferris wheel? And the answer is a resounding no, I'm still a wus. With every rotation past the 6th or 7th, my resolve to yell "stop the effing ferris wheel" increased exponentially until miraculously, as I was about to unload steelcut oats mixed with bananas and milk (my breakfast a couple of hours earlier) on the unsuspecting pedestrians below, the ferris wheel stopped and we unboarded. Phew....