Next week, we are going to visit some friends. These friends live a ferry ride away, in the capital of our province. We will drive to the ferry after work and preschool and visit our friends for a couple of days before heading back home.
In June, my daughter and I are flying to New York to visit my brother and his fiancée. I’ve been saving for this trip for a year, and on my daughter’s birthday I’m going to take her to Stomp – she loves percussion and I got discount tickets.
While I love seeing our friends, I must confess that I am really excited about going to New York. Which trip is my daughter thrilled by? Yes, you guessed it. Not the appeal of Manhattan, but the trip close to home. Cheap thrills.
I asked her about this last night, thinking that she was excited about seeing the other kids. Or perhaps it was the ferry ride. I certainly get excited about ferry food (don’t ask, it’s a fond childhood memory). But no, although she’s looking forward to seeing everyone, what she is really excited about are the guinea pigs.
Our friends have two guinea pigs, and last time we visited my daughter got to hold them and feed them. Apparently it was a deeply engaging experience. She’s been talking about the trip for weeks, especially about the guinea pigs.
I also asked her about our upcoming trip to Manhattan. Was she excited about the visit to FAO Schwartz? Visits to Central Park and the big rooftop playground that we’re going to find? Going on the ferry past the big statue? Visiting my brother and his fiancée? Nope. Not really. She did have a suggestion, however. If my brother could somehow acquire a pet – preferably a guinea pig – in the intervening months, then perhaps she would be excited to go to Manhattan.