The Most-Infamous Train

Our adventures of today (as in Saturday) took us to the small town of Baldwin City, Kansas.  The reason for this was a blue train by the name of Thomas, and if you have no idea who he is, maybe it's just better that way.  But millions of children everywhere know this train well, and they wish to flock to him like paper clips to a magnet, loading their little paws and convincing their parents alike to purchase excessive amounts of overpriced merchandise with their pleading, high-pitched annoying voices.

Now this is the part I share with pride: my child is not one of those children (yet; yeah, yeah).  She honestly has no idea who Thomas is, and that's okay with her.  He's a blue train, and that's enough to get a smile out of her.  $13 toddler-sized t-shirts and all other ridiculous merchandise would be wasted on her, because she is oblivious to his celebrity.

So, for anyone wanting to know what to expect when you too have to take your little rugrat to the commercially-overrated festivities, you will see beaucoup amounts of activities all geared for younger children, a huge tent full of junk you really don't want to buy (so you really can just skip that one), and a train with a truly adorable face. 

The tickets are $16 per person (only children under two are free) if you want to ride the train.  Or, you can skip that part and just take advantage of the rest of the day's activities and save yourself the dough, because it's free.  They can sit in the Lego-version of Thomas and call it a train ride.  But take a picture, that'd be good.

We paid, and we rode the train, and we got a nap out of Bailey for our money, so it was worth every dollar bill.  But before getting on the train, Bailey passed on the opportunity for a tattoo, skipped the storytelling and boring cheesy Thomas video (how can any other child watch those, really?), only liked watching the display trains in the gift shop tent (as well as derailing one), threw a mini-tantrum when we didn't allow her in the inflatable jumping things with the hoodlums much older than she is, hit a kid because he was holding the train she wanted, got in trouble for hitting said child, stamped her frustration out using a Thomas stamper and stamp pad, colored till her heart was content, moved children aside as she dominated the Lego train and manage to get herself in anyone's photo of their own child, chased away evil spirits with a bubble wand, ditched the line to meet some guy named Sir Topham Hatt, used a hay maze as a safe haven, and ate cookies as we waited in line to board the train.

We don't regret going at all, because we did have a fabulously good time, and we were there to see just what all the fuss was about.  We're not completely out of the clear though, so our smug smirking must end here: our Bailey really loves those train tables.