That’s what my 3-year-old calls an “escalator.”

If I dare mention going to the mall, he gets excited. Not to shop. But to ride the magic stairs.

I’ve never understood his interest in the escalator. It goes up…it comes down. No music. No fast-paced amusement thrill. Yet, we ride it anyway. Even when we don’t need to.

His interest in the magic stairs reminds me of when I was a child.

I loved going to the Buster Brown shoe store. I was fixated with the statue of Buster Brown that was actually a helium tank for balloons., and the spout came out of his mouth. I wanted new shoes all the time, and it made my day to make the trip to Muncie where the store was located.

Knowing this, we ride the magic stairs. Again and again.

And one more time.

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