Happy Land

Mom, I hated Happy Land

I really hated Happy Land

You tell everyone that I loved it
You say--'I don't understand. He LOVED Happy Land when he was a kid.'
And you're lying

I'm sorry, Mom, but you do
You lie

I hated Happy Land

You must have forgotten all the kicking
Screaming, crying, toy-flinging
That would ensue
Every time you would try to take me
To Happy Land

You and Dad would always make me go
In the middle of July
When the lines were three times as long
And it was so hot
I would pass out on the Ferris Wheel
And wake up on the flume
With no memory of what happened in between

Remember the year I choked on the hot dog?
Remember the year I threw a temper tantrum and punched Happy Hank the Harmless Hobo?
Remember the year I got lost in the hall of mirrors, took off my sneaker, and started smashing my way out yelling 'I'm hitting me! I'm hitting me!'

I know you think it was happy memories
And laughs and childhood fun
But come on, Mom

We're adults now
Can't we all just admit
It was a horrible idea
Every single year we did it?

And we probably would have kept going back
If Dad hadn't gotten banned from the park
When he accidentally backed the car
Into the Happy Land Bumper Car Shack

Look, don't feel bad

You know what I remember most about those trips?

I remember Dad passed out in the backseat
So I got to sit in the front
While you drove
And we sang Pete Seeger
All the way home

I remember stopping for milkshakes
At the little dairy hut
A few blocks from our house
And you letting me get a double
Even though I'd been a little brat all day

I remember pulling into our driveway
And being totally in love
With our house
And my room

And I remember you taking the photo
We all took in front of the Lizard Coaster
The one time all day we were smiling
Out of the bag of junk we'd bought
And putting it on the mantle
Next to the photos from the other years

And I remember you looking at that photo
Like you had the best family in the world

That's what I remember, Mom
That was Happy Land