Signed in as:
filler@godaddy.com
Signed in as:
filler@godaddy.com
As I walk through the lights and all of these rides, sentimental feelings begin rising up inside. Memories of laughter nestled between squeals of fear, while remembering the ones who used to hold me so near.
Some days are like the tilt-a-whirl spinning out of control, other days are like the zipper with so many ups and downs you wonder if you will ever be made whole. The funny house with all the mirrors reflecting different faces, sort of like the ones we now pick from depending on what the place is.
Just like real life, some games are fair and others are not, dependent upon heart of the one running it as to whether or not you have a shot. Balloons for popping with fish swimming around, are effective tools to help the last five dollars in your pocket be found.
Neon lights reflected in little one's eyes, while staring at stacks of stuffed animals appearing to go as high as the night sky.
"Can we go on that one?" followed by "Will you hold my hand", gives us older folks the chance to feel the magic again.
I always hate leaving this temporary magical state, with its dirt aisles and "Fair Game" signs all over the place. One week it's here and then its gone, but for me and the ink in my pen the memories will live on.