Summer’s End, Childhood’s Echo | 3.5 minutes

“Let’s go to the Ex!” along with its familiar jingle marks the beginning of the end of summer for people living in the Greater Toronto Area.

I went with my family when it first opened on a Monday. It wasn’t busy with people, but still a rollercoaster to the senses.

Bright flashing lights, spinning rides, rumbling music, the smell of corn dogs, laughter, and, of course, the never-ending calls of the vendors, “$10 to throw three darts at big balloons! You can’t miss!”

In my head, I heard $20 because I have two kids.

“Everyone’s a winner,” they assure me. Like a sucker, I pay the chap. And I’ve spent $10 on stupider things, like lottery tickets and lattes. When I see the joy in my kids’ eyes, it’s true, everyone is a winner.

At the Ex, like other carnivals, the vendors are helpfully ruthless. They don’t settle for your kids' delight alone; they want the kid within you, too.

Everywhere I looked, I saw adults becoming kids again, playing games, forgetting the bad economics.

That’s what The Ex delivers so well: a juxtaposition of time as it relates to age.

When I was a kid, I was given rules and restrictions at the Ex. Now, I’m passing along the same rules and restrictions to my own. Damn.

When did it all change? What would my younger, child-like self say to me, the old man, dad of two, husband to one, now?

• Go on the bungee trampoline. It’s like so much fun. You go so high and then just bounce right back each time.

• Oh, dude, try the deep-fried Oreos. They’re crazy good. They’re like Oreos, but…better.

• Mom, Dad, can we buy a dartboard for home? It’ll be so fun. We promise not to throw them at each other.

Caught up in all the fun, we missed our train back and walked around for another 30 minutes. My kids took turns asking, “Can we go on that one?” “Can we buy one of those?” “Dad, what else can we have?”

My wife and I somehow managed to leave under budget.

My kids left with plush toys, a sticky tooth and memories that’ll last a lifetime. I hope the tradition lives on.

The Ex doesn’t just sell games and rides. It sells time travel.

Pebble

Challenge

What would your childhood self say to you now? Stop scrolling? Take a ride? Eat the Oreos? Forget your knees, your stomach, your heartburn — what would your inner child do with a pocket of cash and a bit of time?

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