What made the ride fun for the boys was their somehow thinking that the plastic jackets were Jedi robes of a sort, and even more fun was the idea that their Pop Pop was playing with them.
There was a short wait. A female worker, who could not have been older than 25, looked like Ebeneezer Scrooge meets Mommy Dearest. I have never met a woman in such a bad mood, not ever, and the park had only been open for an hour. For a brief moment I felt fear, and I wondered if the woman was a reincarnation of my fourth grade teacher. After waiting a short while for an open boat, we finally climbed in and prepared for the ride. The boys--as young Jedi warriors--not only believed that the power of the Force would protect us from this person who obviously embraced the dark side of the bed that morning, but they also may have thought their dedication to the Force would keep all of us dry. Their destiny was on a different path than that of Aunt Lydia.
Jack had not been terribly happy about going on the ride. The boats are a bit rough at times, and the squealing of some girls on the ride in front of us made him uneasy. Jack has still not come to terms with the strange behaviors of teenage girls who believe screaming loudly enough to pierce the human ear is a valuable part of any ride. I was sure that their noise forced dolphins on the California shoreline to stick their heads above the water and chatter in response.
It took a couple of Pop Pop's corny knock knock jokes to make Tommy laugh and allow Jack to forget about the ride. During my teaching career, I found that dumb jokes work like twisting the lip of a horse while someone nails metal shoes on hooves. In both cases, the slightly painful method helps them refocus their attention.
This next picture was the last one that Lydia took before she placed the camera in a safe spot where it would remain dry. In the opening moments of our journey, Jack groaned at the sudden jolts and jerks the raft made on this giant conveyor that took us quickly to the top of the ride. As we reached the summit, a water pipe--designed to squirt riders--hit Lydia in the face. "Is someone doing that on purpose?" Lydia shouted looking around the outside of our raft, and then another squirt of water hit her again. At first I didn't know it happened. I heard this sound: something like a bumble bee, yet it was a bit louder and sounded deeper. And then I recognized it! It was the noise that Lydia made when Cles and I would put a glob of Guacamole on her face when she was in high school. A sound that made me smile on that warm November day, just like I did years ago with a finger dipped in Guacamole.
As we approached the bridge and the final stretch, I heard my Annie's voice. "Hey, Lydia!" Since Anna did not make the height requirement, Ann took our little blond on another ride. I think it was Monster's, Inc. Now waiting for us, they were in a spot to take pictures of us at the end of our ride. Having looked at the picture and seeing the base of the small hill where we splashed down, I recognize why "Hey Lydia" was so appropriate: Lydia was the one screaming. Anna appeared to look as if she were thinking, is that my mom?
Anna leaned against the rail and watched intently for us to arrive. It was a very warm day in late November in the park, a bit over 90 degrees, so the splashing water felt really good. During the summer, I never really felt the need for a plastic parka to keep water from soaking parts of my clothing, but I did that day in spite of the beautiful weather. And I am sure all of us felt the same way. Most likely it was knowing that we did not have until eight or nine o'clock that night to dry in the heat of a summer day, and even though the weather was great, each adult knew that it would be dark by 5:30 in the afternoon: only a couple of hours later. We knew that we would need the sweatshirts we brought that morning.
Everything on the ride made it enjoyable for the boys. Their parkas kept them dry. It was not a busy day at the park, so another load of passengers wasn't bumping into us repeatedly during the ride, and most importantly, Tommy watched his mom and Jack watched his aunt express feelings that the two boys were too embarrassed to share with the rest of Disneyland. They smiled because they experienced fear vicariously, Lydia was their mouthpiece. Kristin and I enjoyed riding with Lydia too, and in fact, we hoped to go one more time before the end of our California trip, but this one incredible ride would have to be the one to remember. And it was.
At the end of the ride, Lydia composed herself, pulled out the camera and took several pictures. We saw my Annie and Anna on a bridge waving to us as we approached the final bend. Grandma took several pictures of us just before we finished. My only regret was not having some pictures of Tommy and Lydia during the ride. 
But grandma took care of that with a couple of quick pictures of all of us as we turned and weaved our way to the end of the ride and to the spot where we would meet the grouchy Disney worker. At this point the boys were smiling and enjoying the moments with us. They were both glad we rode Mickey's rapids.
All of us were afraid to meet the young Disney attendant, but it was not to be. As with the entire trip, the fates allowed us to exit the ride with a smiling man who hoped each of us would have a nice day. We were all grateful not to look at the woman, whom we believed had an evil wish for all riders to drown. And we believed she wished the same for Mickey Mouse and his little dog too.
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