"I went on the loopy ride, and I had some cotton candy, and then I went on the spinny ride, then we went on the way fast ride, and then we had some pizza, and I had a slushie, and then I played the ball throwing game 17 times and won this paper finger trap, and then I went on the water ride and got accidentally naked, and then I got lost but only for a little bit, and I accidentally grabbed Daffy Duck's tail feathers, and then we went on the concussion-giving ride, and then I had more pizza and now I feel kinda sick but I'm still a little hungry." I'm not sure how much of my run-on sentence my wife actually listened to when my friends and I returned from Six Flags late Saturday night.

While I didn't actually consume that much junk food (due to a lack of funds, not a lack of desire) I sounded more like a child hyped up on sugar and joy than I did like a grown woman recounting the day's events.

"Wait. Can you go back to the 'accidentally naked' part of the story?" My wife asked, proving she heard at least part of my tale.

"Well, you know my carefully planned outfit? The sneakers that won't fly off my feet and shorts with big pockets to store all my goodies? And you know how my shorts were rather light in color? Well, the water ride may have made them completely see through." I explained as I snuck into the kitchen to hide my brand new, overpriced memorabilia cup.

"And you didn't think about that before you went on the ride?"

"Of course I did. I also thought I might stay dry. To be fair the whole boat stayed dry. Except my seat." Of course I still had to explain the many stains smeared across my shorts. The lap restraints bled onto the wet fabric of my shorts. Obviously.

"Right," My wife sighed, knowing she should never let me out of her sight. "You know I saw the cup, right?" she asked before reminding me that I was banned from purchasing drinking vessels years ago because I hoard cups like they hold the power of life. I blame my parents. Throwing out my bottle was a traumatizing event that I never fully recovered from.

It also seems that I haven't matured much from that point. A trip to the amusement park brings me as much joy as it did the first time I was tall enough to ride the big kid rides. Only now, instead of hugging the costumed characters I grope them inappropriately.