Now of course, that seems great already. If I told you that not one of the things I’ve mentioned so far was my favorite, and what I remember most wasn’t even at Disney World, would you actually believe it? You should. The highlight of my first memory is a car. A red, shiny Jeep Cherokee. If I could, I would have just driven around in it the entire weeklong vacation. Being a rental car, it was probably several years old, not the fastest or the best car there available, but for some reason it fascinated me for every waking second. If you had offered me a chance to go to breakfast with the Disney characters (which, by the way, was another amazing event for a three year old that my family did do on that vacation) or to just sit in the car, I probably would’ve chosen to just sit in the car. I truly don’t know why I liked that car so much. There’s no real reason for my obsession. The car didn’t have a TV in the backseat, or heated seats; it had nothing special. I guess it didn’t really matter though, because that was the car of my dreams.

By now you probably think I’m crazy. I said how everyone’s first memory is a tragedy and that most are depressing. Then I proceeded to tell you how my first memory was of my vacation and how amazing it was. My days were filled with having fun at Disney and admiring this wonderful new car. But I haven’t told you the whole story yet. Obviously, because it was a vacation, we had to leave Florida and return to boring Lexington. I had just experienced heaven on earth for a three year old; people were dressed as my favorite characters, I rode in trains and monorails, and of course I got to ride in that wonderful car. I had to abandon all that and go back to having a rusting station wagon and watching on TV those characters I had just talked with and touched.  Maybe that doesn’t quite qualify as a tragedy, but it was one of the most depressing circumstances that a three year old could experience. Being at the happiest place on earth is obviously joyful, but the experience of leaving there brings on the opposite feeling. At least I learned (or should’ve learned) an important lesson: Nothing stays perfect forever.