harriedmom.com

The lazy days of summer vacation are long gone, the relaxing beach trip barely a memory. Imagine being at the carnival and standing near the Scrambler ride. Some folks look thrilled, but most appear stricken with strange facial contortions as they are whipped back and forth Scrambler style. You don't want to ride the Scrambler. It'd be nicer just to get on the Merry-Go-Round, but before you can walk away, you are thrust onto the ride without a seatbelt and you slide all over, the wind and speed knocking you around. You want to throw up. You beg to get off. But you can't. The Scramber just keeps going.

My point? Scrambler equals what school days mean to me.