Sanity Check: The Family Wimp Goes Parasailing

While on vacation in Siesta Key, Florida , I vowed that I wouldn’t go parasailing with my husband and daughters; I would simply go along for the boat ride and take photographs of them 350-feet aloft in the air.

I made this vow because I am the official family wimp. My husband and daughters seem, to me, fearless about physical activity, whereas I’m always the cautious one. I would be quite comfy with my role as official family wimp, except my family gets annoyed when I call myself that and proclaim that I am not nearly as wimpy as I, well, assert. (Irony intended.)

I am, in particular, wimpy about water activities (at best I can swim on my back in a pool) and I’m fearful of open heights. (Although, for some reason, I’m fine with enclosed heights such as airplanes and fancy glass elevators in hotels.)

That’s why parasailing seemed like a particularly bad idea for me—350 or so feet aloft in a harness clipped to a parachute, tethered to a boat by a cable, over the ocean. No, no thank you.

So I boarded the boat, clutching my camera and bag, releasing my hold only to spritz my family with SPF30, while firmly avowing to the deck hand that no, I would not parasail.

At which point she looked at my husband and two children and said: “Fine. So the two girls will go up first in tandem. And then you, sir. Except you need a partner. So which daughter will go up for a second parasail ride with you?”

My husband and daughters all looked at each other. And then they looked at me.

And I realized I was expected to make the decision: which daughter gets the second parasail ride?

My future flashed before my eyes. I saw clearly that no matter how I made the choice—picking the younger one because parasailing was her idea in the first place, picking the older one because she’s older, flipping coins, thinking of a number 1-10—I was doomed.

For the next 40 years--at Thanksgivings and Christmases and all family gatherings future—I’d overhear: “Yeah, well, mom chose YOU to go parasailing a second time!”

All our effort to minimize sibling rivalry and promote family harmony was about to be undone in a matter of seconds, no matter my choice or the logic behind it.

So I made the only possible choice: “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going parasailing beside my husband.”

What mother wouldn’t opt for making a complete fool of herself by shrieking and freaking out in fear of water/heights rather than forevermore hearing “Remember that vacation when you chose HER to go parasailing a second time? Always knew you liked her more!”

To their credit, my daughters (who’d said all along I should go) were pleased by my decision rather than squabbling about a second ride.

So that’s how I ended up parasailing, something I swore I’d never, ever do.

And, surprise, it was wonderful. Beautiful. Peaceful. Easy. I did not freak out or shriek. I completely enjoyed the experience and I’ve been enthusing about it ever since to anyone who’ll listen.

So I guess my family’s right. I’m not such a wimp after all. Or maybe being a mom has made me tougher than I realize.

In any case, I would go parasailing again without hesitation.

On the other hand, if my nutty family members ever want to go parachuting, they’re on their own.

Really.