Emily has gone to Disneyland with her mom and grandmother. This is the first time I've been separated from her overnight, and I'm very sad about it--coming home this morning to an empty apartment after taking them to the train station was a real downer.
Why didn't I go, too? First, I may have jury duty; so far, I haven't, but I have to call all week. Second, I probably wouldn't have gone anyway, since I don't like amusement parks. My parents dragged me to them as a child; I hated the rides, and when I yelled, they laughed at me. I know that they were just trying to 1) get me to have fun; 2) make light of my mortal terror. Still, it's not a happy memory. Plus it's not as if I was an dour child anyway (though this is apparently their memory of me): I loved playing sports and so on. I did enjoy the parks to some extent, so long as I didn't have to go on any rides. Or only the low-key ones, like those little cars on tracks you could drive around.
No, I would have gone--if Emily has fun, I want to see it. I just hope she never asks Daddy to ride a rollercoaster.
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