Sometimes the most memorable scenes from my day exist in a haze of sniffles, tears raining down like Pagliacci in the final act. Not my own, but my 3 year old. Today my husband had a company picnic(thanks to the "Man" for a steady paycheck and health insurance!!)at Oaks Park in Sellwood. Fun was had by all-with only a few bumps. So the park has this little steam engine train that makes its way around the grounds amidst toots and whistles and a semi-comfy place to sit. Not a bad choice for two weary parents, one hepped up preschooler and a slightly delirious 1 year old. So we wait in line, it's getting a bit sunnier than the weather people had predicted. There's an amazon boy in back of me alternately breathing down my neck and jumping around like a crazed monkey. Abigail, the 3 year old, is waiting patiently with only minor queries as to the trains whereabouts. Then, after about 15 minutes of waiting, shift our stinkin' weight around from flip-flop to flip-flop, a harried gentleman comes by and says that due to mechanical difficulties, the train will be out of commission for the rest of the day. Then come the aforementioned tears. You would think we had told her that we had personally taken Santa out for a late night drive and then shot him out the passenger window going 60 on the interstate. Luckily, ice cream revived her spirits and we spent the rest of the afternoon in slight calm and partial order.