The Triple-Dog Dare

The northeastern Ohio weather forecast was grim: a high of 5 degrees Fahrenheit the day my husband and I traveled to the Kalahari Resort in Sandusky, Ohio, America's largest indoor water park, to spend a couple days with our grandchildren. We were pleased to discover that the water park's massive interior maintained a balmy and comfortable temperature.

My 5-year-old granddaughter, Emma, avoided most of the rides because her petiteness prevented her from staying warm, even though most of the water felt comfortable to the rest of us.

Emma's tiny physique was deceptive. Passersby who frequently commented sweetly on her doll-like beauty and long, flowing hair would not have guessed that Emma was a strong gymnast who outperformed children 10 years older. In spite of her bodily strength and agility, her diminutive size prevented her little body from maintaining adequate warmth.

For this reason, she was forever drawn to the oversized hot tubs in the water park, begging and pleading to spend endless hours swimming and playing in water hot enough to produce dizziness and fatigue in a normal person. I volunteered to spend the day near the hot tubs with Emma as the rest of the family departed to the much wilder water park attractions.

Once in the hot tub, Emma and I found an 8-inch-high flap-covered doorway that led to the outside. I ducked through the doorway with my chin in the water, my head barely clearing the door top. Short little Emma danced through the doorway on tippy toes, her nose barely out of the water as she tilted her head backward for maximum nose height. We soon found ourselves in the frigid five-degree out-of-doors, the lower 40 inches of our bodies submerged in life-saving warm water. I kept my knees bent for optimum submersion.

The eyes of 24 other hot tub users followed my adorable little angel as she clung to my arm on our way to the far end of the swimming-pool-sized hot tub. I fought the current of the powerful underwater jet streams and pushed forward through violently bubbling water as thick clouds of steam rolled upward into the arctic breeze, forming icicles upon everything in their path, including the stylish 8-foot-high fishnet boundary and the stainless steel handrail that followed a stairway up to ground level. Rolling snow hills lay just past the icy fishnet border. Frosty air cooled the water to a comfortable temperature as ice crystals formed in our hair. I found myself frequently dunking each ear to prevent lobe freeze.

People nearby commented "My, what an adorable child," as Emma sprung from an underwater bench, jumping through the freezing air into the bubbling torrent. We played for hours, taking turns diving over water arcs, floating with swift currents, playing with turbulent massage jets, and pretending to be lobsters cooking in a giant pot of boiling water.

After hours of hot tub fun, I was surprised to hear my dainty granddaughter blurt out, "Grandma, I triple-dog dare you to walk up onto the cement and do jumping jacks." In order to appreciate this request, I will refresh the memories of those readers who may not have participated in a dare since childhood. The dare is an unwritten contract that obligates the daree to do anything the darer wishes, no matter how dangerous or embarrassing the act. The "triple-dog dare" obligates the daree one hundred times more than a normal dare.

Although I was very fit for a grandma, I had no desire to draw that kind of attention to myself, so I kindly declined her dare. "But Grandma, no one can say 'No' to the triple-dog dare!" she cried. "Then I must say 'Triple-dog no' to your request" I replied.

I glanced at the tile steps that led up out of the water into the glacial air, and said, "I triple-dog dare you to walk up those steps." Emma leapt to the challenge by tippy-toeing with nose barely above the water over to the bottom of the tile steps. Heads turned toward her as she ascended into the sub-zero windchill, step by step. The crowd closed in with concern. Emma had the full attention of all hot tub users as she stood completely out of the water, slipping her little hand around the frigid steel handrail, knocking icicles down with her dainty little fingers. Onlookers gasped when she hugged the frozen steel rail and pressed her little cheek onto it several times, smiling, her eyes constantly gazing my way during this most frightful performance. Most likely it was the rolling steam that prevented the harsh metallic surface from ripping her tender skin.

The audience watched her in horror then turned and glared at me, the one who was allowing this heinous act to continue. I broke the silence with a nervous laugh, and explained loudly, "She's doing this on a triple-dog dare." People then shrugged, laughed, or sighed with relief, "Oh, so that's what's going on!" Spectators looked on as Emma ran to the cement edge of the hot tub and jumped in to instantly thaw her frozen little body. People clapped; some cheered and whistled. Others uttered phrases of relief or compliment. The crowd slowly dispersed, and people went on about their business. Indecipherable chatter returned to its normal level. My precious little granddaughter looked up at me, her face beaming, and smiled with the kind of pride that can only be claimed by one who has successfully completed the triple-dog dare.