Train

Yesterday Emily and I went to Dole Plantation. For such a big tourist destination you'd think there would be lots to do there. There is - the stuff just isn't that fascinating. The "World's Largest Maze" is sorta boring and usually just hot and annoying. The garden isn't the most beautiful thing ever. The shop has stuff to buy, but it is just tourist stuff.

What is fun, though, is the train. The trip isn't great, usually you don't see any pineapple, the narration is terrible, but it's a train. A choo-choo train. I love, love, love trains. I remember seeing the coal-powered train come into the station at Cumberland, Maryland - I was 23 and I was jumping up and down and squealing in joy. Trains are just that cool.

Trains are the secret reason why I decided to have children. A 28 year old woman shouldn't be as excited about trains as I am. However, a 28 year old mother can get as excited as she wants if it's in the guise of entertaining a child. They can also do all the silly art and craft projects at fairs. They can ride the merry-go-round (well they can stand next to the kid riding the merry-go-round). They get to squeal and point at cute bunnies and fancy ponies. Mom's get to get excited because they are, we think, trying to get their little ones excited. You go ahead and think that, but honestly, I just love me some bunnies.

Thankfully, Emily is beginning to understand her poor mother and is now going along with the whole charade. She even went so far as to sing along with the horrible narration on the train yesterday. Which is either a very understanding child or a child who will someday be the overly excited 28 year old herself.

So, Emily comes with me on the train and allows me to jump up and down and yell "choo-choo" often and loudly.