The Haunted House

Maybe it's Halloween that makes me remember this one. Summer 1982 (or 1983) and we were at the Jersey shore and my dad takes me and my sister to the Wildwood Boardwalk. I was likely 5 years old so not more than three feet tall. Everyone around me looked like giants. I remember one girl in spiked stilettos and fishnet stockings. We went on tons of rides that evening. Then we came upon a Haunted House - not the kind you walk through but the kind that has a little train that guides you through the spook fest. We were on line - and pretty close to the front - when my sister, scared by the ghosts and goblins and eerie sounds, flakes out. I was livid. All I wanted was to go on this cool ride. Well this nice lady in front of us offers my dad to let me ride with next to her - you know since my sister ruined the experience for everyone. So dad agrees and I sit on the train next to this lady and off we go into the haunted house. Being 5, it was definitely creepy, but in a fun way. I knew it was fake. When the ride ended, we got off and there were dad and Bethann waiting to hear all about my adventure. We didn't get back to our beach house that night until 10 p.m. In these pre-cell phone days, mom was a wreck wondering where on earth we were, if one of us had gotten lost. She never let dad live that one down.

Of course now I wonder why my dad let me ride with a stranger.

Update: My sister has this to say in her defense:
"I was 3...JUST turned 3 because Brian was a baby. I want you to try to convince your 3 year old someday to go on a ride which a smoke breathing goblin with glowing eyes glares down at him. OKAY? THEN claim that I was scared and YOU were brave."