On my four-year-old daughter's first trip to Disneyland, she couldn't wait to get on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. As the car zoomed through the crazy rooms, into the path of a speeding train, and through walls that fell away at the last second, she clutched the little steering wheel in front of her.
When the ride was over, she said to me a little shakily, "Next time, you drive. I didn't know where I was going."

A young fellow by the name of Sammy liked to hang out at Mom and Pop's Grocery Store. Pop didn't know what Sammy's problem was, but the other boys would tease him all the time, calling him Slow Sammy, and punching him on the shoulder as they passed.
The clerk in a shoe store was trying hard to persuade his customer that a pair of uncomfortable shoes fit her.