We got back from vacation Saturday afternoon. I’ve now taken four family members to Universal Studios Orlando. And not a one of them wants any more of this:
My brother didn’t throw up, but he was nauseous for hours afterward and had little fun all day. He couldn’t even hear the words “Harry Potter” without his stomach lurching. My nephew, who claims to be a thrill-ride maniac, has no desire to ride it again. And of course two years ago it broke my nieces’ wills halfway through their first (and only) ride. Even the German Science Babe wanted no more to do with it.
What gives? Apparently invertebrate social deficiencies are so massive that even a nigh-superhuman intellect can’t balance them. So I guess God tossed in a cast-iron stomach as well.