A couple of weeks ago when I went to the Marin County Fair, I decided I wouldn't leave without getting on a ride. I was already there alone (to ogle Rick Springfield) in a vaguely sad manner, so I sucked it up and waited 20 minutes in line for a seat on the Yoyo (pictured), sandwiched between three high school girls in front of me and several obnoxious kids behind.
When our turn finally came and we scrambled into our seats, it was time for the nightly fireworks display to erupt over the nearby pond.
The two swings directly in front of me were occupied by young girls, probably about 10 years old. We all twisted around in our seats to watch the fireworks behind us while we waited for the ride to start up.
One of the girls turned to the other. "Mary," she said, "being on this ride and watching the fireworks ... This is, like, the best day of my life!"
I smiled, the ride started up and we swung up into the air, flailing our arms and legs and screaming into the night.
Yeah, kid, you're probably right. It only goes downhill from there.