Yesterday I took Fluffy for the world’s saddest carousel ride. After being cooped up in the house for the whole weekend with a painful double ear infection, yesterday she tearfully requested that we “do something fun.” Museum? Mall? Nature walk? Toys Are We? (Yep, I went there.) Cupcake store? I offered all the usual delights.
Fluffy: Can we go to the mall with the carousel and the train, and ride the carousel and the train?
We could. Salty wanted to ride the carousel with Fluffy, while Peppers, my nervous Nelly, threw himself into my arms screaming “No Carousel!” and tried to choke me with the grip of terror. Fluffy sweetly helped her brother up onto the carousel and lifted him into the sleigh before strapping herself on a nearby horse. Now, Fluffy is a big fan of carousel horses because they are so closely related to unicorns and pegassus. In time past, she’s enjoyed them thoroughly.
But today in the throes of sickness, Fluffy could not help but feel the futility of the horse’s endless circling and reflect in despair on the human condition.
Wait. I’m not sure that shot is tragic enough.
There we go. Or maybe silent film style.
Sad Carousel: Don’t cry for me; I’m already dead.
Afterward we all crammed into the caboose of the mall train where Fluffy looked listlessly on while Peppers and Salty sang along at the top of their longs to their favorite Katy Perry song on the mall speakers, “Ro-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ar!”
A quarter of a chocolate shake and a couple bites of a Mrs. Fields semi-sweet chocolate chip cookie later, Fluffy pushed away her sweets and asked to go home. I’m beginning to think she may actually be sick.
At least somebody had fun.