Saturday, December 13, 2014
2/3 of us rode the Polar Express
Last night, we got everybody dressed as soon as the boys got home from school, loaded up our camera, and raced to the train station for a 4:00 pm departure.
And then Dorothy refused to get on the train. "Uh-Uh," she said, tightening her legs around my hips. "Bye bye."
Sure, we could have pressed the issue, but first of all, I have a weird phobia about getting on any sort of enclosed moving thing that I am not driving. Elevators. Planes. The monorail at Disney. The creepy tram from the gate the the baggage claim at the Tampa airport. And, apparently, trains. This one was OLD (see the picture down below of the ashtrays in the arm rests), and I figured the doors would probably get stuck and trap us when the thing ran out of power (which has already happened this season-- the power outage, not the trapping). So I was happy to stay behind with her while the boys chugged away for coca, cookies, and a Santa visit. As we walked back to the car, she said "Choo-choo," so we went back, but then she balked at the entrance. The conductor thought we were nuts and assured me she'd have fun when we boarded. But I didn't want to ride for an hour with her screaming, so we went to Old Navy instead.
Ben and the boys had fun:
And it turns out, we would not have been trapped; Ben and the kids had to exit via the emergency exit which entailed jumping like 4 feet from the train car to the ground because Cooper HAD HAD HAD to pee, and the passengers did not have clearance to disembark yet.
Dorothy also hates elevators, BTW, and she has been saying no uh-huh every time I tell her about our trip. Apple. Not far from tree.
She's also a good baking helper.