He nods proudly. "Oh, don't worry. That's just the beginning. There's loads more!"
Not the point. All those amazing things were two years ago, she screams at him, and he jumps out of her swinging radius. So that's fourteen years, she shouts as he realizes: "Fourteen years since fish custard. Amy Pond, the girl who waited, you've waited long enough." She remembers, now that it's real. The swimming pool, the library, the swimming pool in the library. Although it's moved now, probably. She tells him she's not coming, and he reminds her that she wanted to, fourteen years ago.
"I grew up."
He promises to "fix that," still gross, and continues to tempt her -- she won't have to stay in her nightie since the TARDIS has clothes; the swimming pool possibly -- pretending she won't say no, and lets her in. She nearly cries at the new place, seeing it with us for the first time: Glass floors, banisters to places and platforms, glass pumps and typewriters on the console.
"You are so sure that I'm coming." And why? Because he's just like her: The Scottish girl in the English village. And the reason he knows that matters is that she kept her accent. The things she held onto; the real her, under the cracks. He's one of them, and more importantly he has to be, because otherwise he broke her, and that's unacceptable. He has to reverse the damage. The cracks.
"Can you get me back for tomorrow morning?" Going by his track record? She won't tell him why, but it's been two years. She stares up at the ceiling, already convinced as he spins the wheels and pulls the levers, and asks why her (again), because people always have a reason. "Do I look like people?" He didn't, fourteen years ago. He looked like somebody she could trust. Now, does he look like "people"?
He promises he only wants her because he's lonely, talking to himself all the time, but I think it's a lie. There's something strange about her, there always was. He chose her the second she gave him that apple with the face on, maybe earlier than that. When she asked if she could come with him, fourteen years ago, he said "Of course." A steampunky screen shows a sine wave oscillation, and across it spreads the Crack. You can barely hear him promise, it's thrumming so loudly. He shuts it off, taps it decisively, and goes lighthearted again. It's a tiny moment, but a scary one: There's something about Amy Pond, and he knows it, and we don't.
He asks if the TARDIS is freaking her out, like they sometimes get, and she says she's just happy he's not "a madman with a box" after all. True. He giggles and assures her that is exactly what he is. Also true. If you plan on going on an epic quest, there are some things to look out for. Like a guy with magic powers who appears out of nowhere, and seems to be a nutter. They take off into space, and time.