Elevator blues

Remember on our last trip to Toronto, when Dylan went running ahead because he wanted to be the one who pushed both the elevator call button and the floor button. Now that I think of it, I didn’t write about it at the time because I was feeling like such a bad auntie. In a nutshell, Dylan ran much faster than I expected, the elevator was also much quicker than anticipated and Dylan got on the elevator and the doors shut before I could stop him. I had Reid go to Aunt Karin and when they were back, Aunt Karin went to our floor while I stood guard in case Dylan came back down. She found him in the elevator lobby on our floor with an uncomfortable-looking twenty something man. Reid was nearly crying and Dylan was actually crying by the time we were all reunited. On the upside, neither kid even approached the elevator doors without a grown-up for the rest of our weekend.

Well, this time we had elevator troubles of a different sort. On the way to our room on the 20th floor of the hotel, Damien started to fuss. I thought he was upset because Aunt Karin wasn’t there with us. But he was super-excited to go to the swimming pool until it was time to get into the elevator and he got upset again. Damien is a man of few words and I’m no detective but I made the connection. The people who rode the elevators with didn’t look too impressed with the noise. People can be creeps, eh? At our second hotel, we were (thank goodness) on the 3rd floor. Two of the elevators overlooked the pool and that proved to be a better distraction than the mirrors at the first hotel. By the time we checked out, Damien was okay with the elevator.

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