Dignity on the Magic Flying Train

It was my son’s 13th birthday recently and he asked to visit the (relatively) new aquarium in St. Louis. That seemed reasonable, so I said sure and took the family. 

When we got there, it was apparent that this was more of an entertainment venue than a scientific endeavor. And while my son would have been more excited about the latter, there were still fish to be seen, so we pressed on.

Before we could enter the aquarium, however, we were compelled by a very energetic “conductor” to take the train ride. Of course, this just wasn’t any train ride, it was a magic flying train ride, and it required the passengers to help provide the magic to get it going. So the very energetic “conductor” asked if it was anybody’s birthday.

While my surly and cool children and I could see what was coming next from a mile away, my very lovely wife either (1) could not or (2) could, but didn’t care because she shot up her hand, pointed at our son, and yelled delightfully “It’s his birthday!”

My son was bewildered. But it gets worse…

The “conductor” told him that birthday magic was the most powerful magic of all and so for the magic flying train to get off the ground, it would require him to yell “Choo choo!” as loud as he could. 

If he was previously bewildered, now he was mortified.

But all of the little, younger kids on the train whose birthday it wasn’t and who wanted to ride the magic flying train to the aquarium stared at him expectantly.

“Choo choo,” he choked out.

“You can do better than that!” exclaimed the “conductor,” not reading the room but also reading the room.

“Choo choo,” he said again a little louder. 

“Good enough,” she replied, and the magic flying train took flight.

Thankfully, if there are any lasting effects from this trauma, they haven’t materialized, and now my kids have a code word (choo choo) they can use when they think my wife and/or I are embarrassing them. 

As for why I’m telling that story in this space, reader Nate asked for more demolition videos during season 3, and while I don’t have the footage, I’d put the narrative description of my wife demolishing my son’s dignity in that genre.

Have a great weekend, and choo choo.

-Tim


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