Pretty standard fare, I suppose:
I was three. There was a special attraction Santa Claus Train ride. Mom was all excited and I was, too. Then we got on the train. First came the clowns. Loud ones. With balloons. Cue me burying my head in mom’s lap and shrieking. Nonstop. Santa Claus came along and I screamed louder. He wouldn’t leave me alone.. One wrecked event for mama, and a lifetime fear of….wait for it….’tainsrides’ (?!) for me.