When you're little, you are easily upset about littlethings, and when something you've been waiting for doesn't happen, you feeldevastated.

I ran across the street back to my house with my neighbor,Sara, at my tail. We pushed open the door and were ready to start our day of funand games.

"Hi, Mom. Sara and I are going to play in her basement.Jason is getting over his chicken pox, so we can't play upstairs for a fewdays!"

"Wait a minute. I don't know if you should play with anyPetermanns right now. Let me discuss this with your dad. Actually, maybe it wouldbe good if you caught the chicken pox now so it won't sneak up on uslater."

But my parents decided not to let me play at Sara's whileJason was sick. The days went by and Jason got better, and things returned tonormal. I again played at the Petermann's, and then May arrived: time for ourtrip to Disney World.

The night before we were to leave, I was ecstatic.We had to get up early to catch our flight and I had packed all my clothes, toys,books and crayons. I was ready to go, and couldn't wait. For a special treat mymother was having a limo take us to the airport; my father would fly down thefollowing day.

We had planned this trip as part of my fifth birthdaypresent. My parents chose this week because there was an orthodontist seminar myfather and uncle needed to attend, and my mother would make a speech. Mygrandparents drove up to go with us, and my aunt and uncle were meeting us there.We were all ready for a wonderful vacation.

The next morning I couldn'teat - I was too jittery - so instead I waited at the door for the limo. At 6:15it pulled into our driveway. I leaped up. "It's here, it's here, the limo'shere!" I screamed. Once everyone was in, we were on ourway.

"What's wrong, Kaye?" asked my mother when she noticed mescratching my head.

"Eh? Oh, bug bite," I responded without asecond thought. I sat listening to my brothers discussing what rides to go on.When we got to the airport I was so excited my mother was having troublecontrolling me. We were on our way to the gate when my grandma suddenly needed tosit down. We asked for a wheelchair. My grandpa ended up pushing a luggage cart,since he was having trouble walking too and needed to lean on something. Wecontinued, but my mom was worried about my grandparents. How were they going tomake it around Disney World if they couldn't handle the airport?

We got tothe gate and were waiting to board when my mom noticed me scratching mystomach.

"Kaye, come here. Let me have a look at your bugbites."

"No. Why?" I asked, not wanting to lift up myshirt with all those strangers around.

"Because you're scratchingyour stomach a lot and you had an itch on your head before," she respondedmaternally.

"They're just bug bites, Mommy, they're going to tell usto get on the plane soon!" I said, reluctantly lifting my shirt a little. Mymom lifted it up past my belly button.

"Oh, great! Just what weneeded," she sighed as she took me over to customer service. She lifted meup on the counter, pulled up my shirt and showed the representative my stomachwhich, when I looked down, had five bumpy, shiny dots.

"This ischicken pox, in the beginning stages," she said in her best doctor voice."I just noticed it a moment ago. As you can see, if we go on that plane, thevirus will spread throughout the ventilation system. I would like to postponeusing our tickets."

"What's going on, Mommy? Can we still go?Please, Mommy, I want to go!" I cried into her shoulder. My mother thankedthe man and took me back to my grandparents and brothers to break thenews.

While my mom called the rest of the family, I sat in my grandma'slap and sobbed. Matt cried too. "I've been waiting for this my wholelife!" he wailed. My mother came back to a very sad bunch of people. Matt,who was nine, and I were crying next to our eleven-year-old brother, John, whosat in his seat looking very glum.

"Sorry, guys, but we can'tgo," my mom told us. I cried because it was my fault. We called another limo(without our luggage, which had gone to Orlando without us) and went home verydisappointed.

Later, after my mom put calamine lotion on at least 150spots all over my body and I'd had countless oatmeal baths, she informed me thatit wasn't my fault, and that it would have been too hard for my grandparents inDisney World anyway. She promised we would go later, and we did - five monthslater. And we had a wonderful time; some things are worth waiting for.

Things happen that you can't change, so instead of being depressed andcomplaining, learn to see the bright side of things and go with the flow. But Istill blame Jason when I tell people about the trip that didn't happen.