We took the kids to a water park over March Break and it did not disappoint.

It was wet and it was wild.

It was Wet ‘N Wild in Orlando.

I noticed a few differences between visiting a park in the US vs. Canada aside from not being able to differentiate between the water we were swimming in and their beer.

The first was after asking a park employee where he would recommend we start with regards to our four year old, he glanced at her and told us she was tall enough to ride every ride in the park.

He said, “She’s 36 inches so she can ride on everything. She’ll have to go on with an adult on some of them.”

Huh.

I looked at him wondering if his glasses had some sort of magical measuring tape app, otherwise how could he have known Chloe was a) 36 inches (she was) and b) was he nuts  to think this kid who is shorter than the inseam of a pair of pants would be physically able to maneuver her way down these enormous water slides and oh, by the way, she doesn’t know how to swim? Height trumped her lack of swim badges all over the place that day.

I know I am comparing this park to the many amusement parks we have visited in Canada but according to our local rules, Chloe is tall enough to drink water from a communal fountain, walk around the fenced-in wave pool, wear cool sunglasses, hold onto a locker key provided the sharp portion of the pin is safely tucked away, cheer on her sisters, correction, cheer on her 10 year old sister who is tall enough by Canadian standards to ride on some of the rides while her 8 year old sister lifts her to drink from the fountain.

Are we too uptight here?

I’m wondering if there’s a happy medium.

I asked the height wizard if Chloe needed a life jacket. He said, “That’s up to you.”

What?

I think our local parks require her to sleep with it on for a minimum of three days prior to her visit and then drive with it under her five point harness en route to the park. Only with proof of a CSA floatation device under said harness would she be permitted entry.

We strapped on Chloe’s life jacket and sent Hanna and Ellie on the water slides first to see if any would be appropriate for their younger sister provided an adult went on with her.

The first was a slide that Chloe (not much longer than the average math class ruler) was told she could go on alone. It was a “single” which meant I couldn’t sit with her on my lap or in a tube together.

This ride would require Chloe to carry a thick rubber mat up 8 flights of winding stairs and then plummet down a free fall slide before plunging into the equivalent of a bucket of water.

Hmmm.

And also, nope.

The next ride was considered a “family ride” and because there was nothing to carry up the stairs, we agreed to head to the top together (with a small sack of snacks for our travels.)

While I don’t remember much other than fully enveloping Chloe, I do know there was complete darkness, a couple of dead drops and they were playing Abba’s “Dancing Queen” which obviously for me meant, Best. Ride. Ever.

Now that we’re home, I’m wondering why the rules are so different from park to park.

Clearly rules and laws are put in place for our own protection and to maintain order but are we being too overprotective here?

In a land where lawsuits are as plentiful as early-bird specials, I was surprised at the park’s willingness to let kids attempt some of these massive slides.

Then again, 36 inches can be powerful.