Memorable day at Bromont Water Park

_{Edited by Canva}

Morning: The Magical Arrival

When we parked the car, the fresh mountain air hit us—that scent of spruce and damp earth that tingles the nostrils. Yahya leaped out of the back seat, his blue sky swimsuit already visible under his t-shirt. "Look, Dad!" he shouted, pointing at the slides zigzagging like giant snakes above the trees. The entrance sign, electric blue with painted droplets that seemed to move in the sun, almost flashed with promise. I took out my wallet, wincing inwardly: $137 CAD (629steem) per person stings. But seeing Yahya hopping in place, his light-up sneakers flashing with every step, I sighed with a smile. This will be worth it, I whispered to myself.

Dive into Childhood

The kids' zone? A deluge of colors and high-pitched screams. Jets of water gushed out in time with a chime melody, transforming the ground into a moving carpet of light. Yahya ran toward a giant mushroom dripping warm water. "Catch me, Daddy!" he yelled, zigzagging between the liquid streams, his black hair plastered to his forehead. I chased after him, my sandals slapping on the wet concrete, until a surprise jet soaked my right ear. His laughter that high-pitched giggle he's had since he was three, resonated like a melody. Near us, a little girl in a unicorn floatie squealed with joy as she twirled beneath a miniature waterfall. The scent of sunscreen and cotton candy wafted by, sweet and reassuring.

Wave Time: Complicity and Chaos

At the wave pool, the water was a milky blue, heated to perfection. The roar of the waves announced each break. Yahya clung to my back like a baby koala, his fingers digging into my shoulders. "It's like surfing, isn't it, Dad?" he shouted as the first wave lifted us. I tasted chlorine on my lips as I struggled to keep my balance. Around us, teenagers were doing somersaults, parents were drinking smoothies of improbable colors, and an old man in a striped bucket hat was floating on his back like a happy jellyfish. When the siren sounded for the safety break, Yahya whispered, "It's like the sea is giving hugs!" I treasured that phrase.

The Slide Test: Courage and Pride

The "Black Lightning" slide towered over us from its 25 meters. Yahya read the warning aloud: "Not for the faint of heart." His eyes lit up. "You're not scared, are you, Dad?" I swallowed, feeling my knees tremble. The elevator climbed slowly, revealing the view of the mountains—a patchwork of greens and browns beneath a cloudless sky. At the top, a teenager in a fluorescent swimsuit called out to us, "First time? Pull the handle if you want to slow down... or not!" Yahya pressed himself against me in the canoe, his sweaty little hands gripping my fingers. The fall? A mixture of a knotted stomach, hoarse screams (mine), and hysterical laughter (his). Down below, soaked and laughing, he stared at me with the seriousness of a chef: "You did well... for an old man."

Gourmet Break: Flavors and Secrets

At lunchtime, we opted for the "Le Repaire des Pirates" kiosk. Yahya chose a triple chocolate ice cream that dripped onto his fingers; I chose a burger whose cheese flowed like lava. Sitting on a wooden bench carved with hearts and lovers' names, our feet dangled above the cool grass. "Dad..." he whispered through his mouth, "when I grow up, I'm going to work here scaring people on the slides!" I wiped a smear of caramel from his cheek, noticing how long his eyelashes were when he blinked at the sun. The clatter of cutlery, the distant shouts of visitors, the buzzing of wasps around the trash cans—everything seemed to slow down.

Farewell to the Setting Sun

As we left, we stopped in front of the distorting mirror in the gift shop. Yahya, transformed into a giant sausage, burst out laughing when he saw me as a giant bean. We left with a luminous dolphin keychain and flip-flops that squeaked with every step. Inside the car, the smell of chlorine and cold fries lingered. Yahya fell asleep within ten seconds, his still-damp hair plastered against the window. I drove slowly, the headlights illuminating the winding road, remembering his smile when the wave lifted him a perfect moment, fragile as a soap bubble.

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@kouba01