The Fall

So I have finally got around to looking through the photos I took while at Disneyland Paris in … um … June. (Yes, I’m slow at getting to photos. I’m trying to get better. Really.)

There are a couple of good iconic-looking photos of the park (as above). A number of photos of Maggie getting increasingly distressed from standing in queues — apparently a one-and-a-half-year-old (it’s weird to call her that, but she was at the time) is not meant to queue. A LOT of photos of Maggie asleep: in my arms, in my arms, in my arms. On a bench, on a bench, on a bench.

And then comes the slides.

Here is Maggie, seconds before the faceplant:

I was taking her picture, all smiles, as she went down the slide. She turned a bit on the way down, I snapped and snapped. And this is the moment when I realised it was all going wrong. You can see she is trying to put her hand down, but there is no slide there.

That hand caught air, and she fell face first into the ground.

But Maggie? She’s a trooper. Two minutes later, here she is:

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