When I was 5 (AP Style) or so, us kids were sent back to a room to watch a movie. It was The Neverending Story.
Which, not unusual in 1985. This was at the Thunderbird in Taos Ski Valley, and it being the '80s, adults enjoyed drinking alcohol at 9300 feet.
It's 24 years before I end up on the stoop of someone who'd named her first son Atreau. She threw an umlaut on the "u" for no reason, and this has been fun over the course of his life.
This said, I ended up in Taos for work, and, well, it didn't end up the way I would have liked. First off, you don't want to be white. Also, I had two section deadlines swapped on me, and I kinda lost it.
For anyone wondering, I have the Powderhorn trail sign from Taos. This was not theft; rather, the guy who founded the place went to boarding school with my grandfather, so I got special dispensation.
But that makes one feel differently about childhood experiences.. I can go before that to chicken and rice in the Kinderkaefig ahead of nap time listening to Moonlight Sonata.
As these things go, life could be worse.
I forever associate this movie with that room. The only thing that would have been more on brand would have been a girl my age who wanted to hold my hand.