Last weekend, we woke up early. Too excited to sleep. We loaded the car with music and snacks, drinks and toys. We drove. And drove. And drove. 90 blissfully whine-free minutes later and we had arrived. A day out with a familiar and friendly face, come to life like never before.
There was so much to do that we didn’t know where to start. So we wandered and wandered and giggled with delight. And then, slightly apprehensive, slightly excited, slightly wide-eyed, we all climbed aboard to the sound of “peep peep.”
We peered out the windows, we wondered where we would go, and what sites we would witness as we set off down the tracks.
We were given very important jobs, with very important duties.
Duties which we proudly did, with some friendly helping hands.
But the very best part wasn’t the kettle corn we snacked on. Or the Thomas bag we bought to carry our loot home with. It wasn’t seeing Sir Tophamm Hatt (from a distance, too shy to go close).
The best part, by far, was the lights in my son’s eyes, when he first caught glimpse of a very special train.
Having kids changes you in ways you can’t imagine. For me, the best part about having a kid, having a son, is experiencing his joy. Doing things just for him, because I know that he will love it. The only thing I get in return, is a heart filled with his excitement.
And really, that’s all I need in this life.