I was 10. A family trip to always expensive New York City started with a night in a cheap hotel in Jersey. After my older brother and I overslept, our father pulled us out of bed and marched us through the door. He was of the up and at 'em attitude. We couldn't possibly see enough of the Big Apple if we slept past seven o' clock.
I rubbed my eyes as I waited for the elevator. Looking down, I heard it ding on our floor. I heard the door slide open. I heard my brother shout in excitement.