Grandmas are like Prisoners 8/18 update

[Cinderella's twin]

Hi guys.

I went to Disney. Of course I brought the family too. It's not always all about me and my love affair with the mouse.

This is the trip that shouldn't have been. The trip that wasn't going to be. In our previous visits to Disney for the past 14 or so years, my parents were cast members. They were seasonals, working a scant few hours. Because of this we were able to partake in the Disney vacation on our budget due to cast discounts.

But that all came to a screeching, surging, flailing halt when my parents received the news that they had been let go. No Disney. No nothing. Not even a mickey shaped ice cream. And they did not find out until it was almost time for our trip. No time to save up for the visit to Mickey.

So we were preparing to go to visit my parents and no giant furry characters were going to be there. No castle. I was fine with it. Yes I was. Stop. Okay I was internally having a temper tantrum, but who is going to cry for me -Argentina? No one. We have been to Disney a boopazillion times. We didn't even need maps. We don't deserve extra anything.

There would be no need for hand- painted shirts. No Tinkerbelle presents. No window decorations.

Okay, I really was hoping Argentina would bust a tiny tear for me.

Butt then.... butt then...Mother the King called with incredible news. We would be getting four park hopper tickets. The kind people at Disney had forgotten about my mom's tickets that she had earned and sent them to her!

We would get one glorious day in the parks.

How cool is that? In the past I would have lamented the measly one day trip. But when it had been no Disney at all and very, very bleak ( I was planning on capturing some of those Florida lizards and having them sign my girl's autograph book whether they liked it or not)

But now one day was looking us in the face and dancing around. And we were dancing with it!!

One perfect day. Leave early from my parents (about an 1 1/2 away) and stay until closing. Then we would drive back after closing and I would pinch all of Mr.'s soft parts to keep him awake on the ride home.

Then my hubby had an idea. He snuck off to make a phone call. Maybe he was afraid of the pinching. I am incredibly accurate at that.

He came back victorious! He had not one but TWO, TWO nights at POP Century. POP CENTURY!

POP is my very, very favorite and Great Biscuit stole it from me last time.

So this trip report will be for three days. Getting to POP, Going to Disney and then our last day and the things we did on our way home.

Who was with me? Well...

Hubby, 36 a very patient man who works in a school system. He is also friggin' hilarious, loves to party, sing, and flash his dimples at me.

My son, 12 who is just a magnificent person. He is staggeringly smart and remember everything he learns. He has an engineering mind and loves all sorts of transportation.

My daughter, 9 loves Disney. She is a huge fan of the characters because they are her dream come true. She loves animals and huge ones that walk around? That's fantastic. She still believes, though I'm sure it was our last trip with that kind of magic.

And me, 37 I do the stay at home mom thing plus I'm a substitute teacher and an author. I'm new to knitting and loving it. I like sunsets, walking on the beach and slapping clowns.

We have three dogs and a cat. Spike is a rescue from a Wyoming puppy mill. He's a multi poo which means he poops multiple times in the house. Snowy is a spitz mix that was rescued from the streets. She's our oldest dog and has gone blind. She is adorable and takes all her jobs she delegates to herself very seriously. One of her most important tasks is sleeping on the floor next to any sleeping human. She is so cute. And our weirdest dog is Peanut, a cocker spaniel. Dear heavens she is a dingbat. She is good with the kids, but in her head she is always rioting. She wants food and you have it. In her mind, if a door opens (any door, including closets) It's on like Donkey Kong. She jumps on any table that may have food. Yes, including the kitchen table. She is a 50 pound nimrod, so she makes a ton of noise.

She is cute though. At least there's that. My in laws in New York were kind enough to take this crew during our Florida visit. They are angels.

We also have a cat. His name is Blackberry. He is the coolest cat in the world. I will tell you his story, but not today. His post needs like spotlights and a drum roll.

So the phone calls happened. Then the plans formed. We drove straight through to Florida this time. No waiting, no overnight in a hotel.

It's a 16 hour drive (give or take) We piled into our vehicle at about 2:00am and we were off.

The ride was pretty uneventful, which is always good. The rest stops on the way down are weird, because sometimes you're busting into a McDonald's to "borrow" their restrooms. On our way to New York there are proper rest stops that are like little malls of wonderful. The ride to Florida is a crap shoot.

So when I'm not walking in on a casting call for a Quentin Tarintino movie thinly disguised as a fast food restaurant on stops down South, I'm happy.

So I wasn't expecting a problem with the honest-to -goodness billed-as-a-pee-stop break. We were in Florida, things were looking good. The little mall like stop reminded me of New York Style rest stops. A few hours left on the monster ride. I did notice a few buses out front, but whatever.

The ladies room was packed with elderly ladies. I go into my stall and my girl goes into the one next door to me. Things commence. I'm looking straight ahead when I'm surprised by a face peeking under my door.

"DORIS??"

I'm looking at her, she's looking at me. I do not know her. Well at least I think she is looking at me. She's wearing super dark aviator glasses that cover at least half her face.

We stare at each other. I say nothing. I mean what could I say? "Let me check for you?" The stall clearly only has room for me and my butt.

"DORIS?!" She says again.

I try to become invisible. My name is not Doris, nor have I nicknamed any parts of my body Doris.

I shrug. This old bag is amazingly flexible for her age. She must partake in big blobs of yoga.

At least if she is busy interrogating me about Doris (who she clearly thinks I have stuffed in the toilet and sat on top of) she isn't creeping out my daughter.

After another awkward pause, her head is gone. Her orthopedic shoes make her as sluethy as a Death Eater.

So that's how I was welcomed into Florida this year.

Up next will be a tale of being slightly retired at 37 and freaking loving it.

Say "Hi" below. You may already know me.

Chapter 2....Grandmas are like prisoners

Chapter 3....Big Panties


Chapter 4....Magic Sneeze

 

[Millie12591]

As always, you have me in stitches! Glad to see you back Mrs. The King, we really missed you! I'm hoping you'll finish this one.....Just sayin.

 

[Cinderella's twin]

As always, you have me in stitches! Glad to see you back Mrs. The King, we really missed you! I'm hoping you'll finish this one.....Just sayin.

Hey cutie~ You and me both! I'm still on a massive vacation and have to head up to NY to get my silly dogs back. But I figured, one day Disney trip report- I can dewwwittttt. I won't be updating until august, when I'm back from NY.

 

[Normangirls]

Holy Toledo, Batman, it's Mrs. The King! How awesome is that?



Hope you have a safe trip up north, and then please get back, would you please? Did I mention "please" already?

 

[Cinderella's twin]

Holy Toledo, Batman, it's Mrs. The King! How awesome is that?



Hope you have a safe trip up north, and then please get back, would you please? Did I mention "please" already?

I'm back baby! My trip up north was lovely and now we are back.... Off to write chapter 2 now

 

[Cinderella's twin]

Chapter 2

So we arrived at my parents’ house. They live in a very fun cruise-like retirement community. They are professional retirees. Apparently they're training for the retired Olympics. You can’t even fathom their rigorous daily routine. It is hilarious. Between working out, swimming, dances, mowing the lawn, and every other freaking thing…it’s hard to get them on the phone.

Here’s a tip about retired people, at least the ones I saw. Don’t mess with them. I wouldn’t. They are all leathery and ripped. They come out of the work out room and look like they could crack walnuts with their thighs. The biceps and abs on these older people are off the chain.

Why, you ask?

I have no idea. I guess we would all be tight and chiseled if the gym was a golf cart ride away.

They are fit, well-read, and ready to party and they are behind well guarded gates. They are sort of like prisoners, but in a good way. In the best way possible. Am I calling your grandma a prisoner? Sort of. Butt it’s a compliment.

We had so much fun. The kids had so much fun. Actually my girl and my boy both changed their career plans. When they grow up they want to be retired. I think they are geniuses. So the pool, the shuffleboard, the tennis, all of it is like a kids’ wonderland. We had one week before we left for Disney.

In that week a few things happened. My father became addicted to Farkle, my kids never really took off their swimsuits, and I became infatuated with the hot tub. Have you never played Farkle before? It’s a game with six dice, sort of reminds me of poker. Very fun!

The kids had two swimsuits each and one was wet and the other was about to be.

But most importantly, I fell in love with those hot, bubbling pools of chemicals and germs. I could not stop putting my jiggler in them. I would float on the noodle for a while. Chase the kids around, then I would go for a soak. And in Florida in July? Your tub is already hot, but I wanted it inhumanely hot. And I got it. Remember those healthy retired beefcakes? They can boil their business extreme style. You would actually sweat in the water. I didn’t even think bodies could do that! Mine did. The jets were powerful massages, and I was all over it.

Here is what I know about hot tubs: They are super sized Petri dishes.

Whatever you are hiding from the neck down is going to get cooked and shared.

That’s a pretty scary thought. It’s funny that after using the restroom I wash my hands like a surgeon, then use the paper towel to open the dirty door, holding it open with my foot while I toss the towel in the trash.

But I will roast my heiney next to perfect strangers while we all wear wet spandex. Luckily I’m not a thinker nor am I consistent. The heat would feel so good on my under-used muscles. Then the rush of getting back into the 89 degree pool? Well, it was down right chilly.

I’m not even going to talk about the benefit of all those bubbles. Let’s just say either there are a lot of wildlife farting like men near the hot tubs or everyone is way too relaxed in those things.

So retirement was grand. Glorious.

But you know what’s coming. I know what’s coming. DISNEY. So I had some work to do. My girl fondly remembered the shirts we had made on our giant trip-o-rama with my in laws and my parents. I never got to finish that story with you guys, but it was epic. I painted the shirts and we spent the whole two days we wore them hearing comments on our fun shirts.

My girl wanted that back, but we only had four family members this year. So I had to contemplate the design. Then I had one evening to knock them out. Four shirts. I knew the backs would say “Let the magic begin…” and I wanted to have Mickey and Minnie heads, but something was missing. My girl really loves Phineas and Ferb. (oh my gosh, who doesn’t?) so she drew a Perry the Platypus on her shirt. Then I knew.

I drew the Perry the Secret agent on hubby’s shirt and then on me and my boy’s shirt I asked, “Where’s Perry?” Which for anyone not familiar with the show, the kids ask every episode.

They dried and we were thrilled. ( I will try to get Mr. TK to post a few pics of the shirts) That show is such a favorite, so many people knew what the shirts meant, it was much fun! So with the shirts dry and the bags packed, we left the compound of thrills to head to the motherland.

Up Next.. “We are here!”

 

[GreatBiscuit]

I just got back from vacation and what do I find? A PM From Normangirls pointing me this direction.



I haven't had time to read yet. (My family seems to have this crazy notion that we need to go get groceries.) But I'll be back to catch up soon.

SOOO happy to see you posting!

Can't wait to read it!

 

[Disneymom77]

Joining in! You had me before i finished the first page! Can't wait to hear more

 

[GreatBiscuit]

POP is my very, very favorite and Great Biscuit stole it from me last time.

I thought we were past that!

"DORIS??"

I drew the Perry the Secret agent on hubby’s shirt and then on me and my boy’s shirt I asked, “Where’s Perry?”

Very Nice!

 

[All7OfUs]

Well, well, well... looks like all the regular groupies are here, and there's already 2 chapters of classic M.T.K. hilarity goin' on. YAY!

 

[Cinderella's twin]

You know what’s hilarious? The last three packages of underwear I have bought have been the wrong damn type.

Yes, I do buy my underwear in packages, not on velvet-covered hangers. My rump just isn’t special enough for that treatment. It causes me too much trouble to get special treats. So I get Hanes and my butt better like it or else.

So why do I keep getting the wrong kind? Well because I keep shopping with my children. They distract me. Now the boy is 12 ½, and isn’t thrilled to be in that section at all. Not that I can blame him.

But girlchild? She’s my little comedian with a very large sense of empathy, which makes for some interesting jokes. So I drive my cart over the delicates and I just want to get panties that are normal colors and are not two sizes too small. Yes, I have done that in the recent past as well. Get the small size, realize it after I open the stupid package and squeeze the jiggler into them anyway. I walk around with my butt cheeks squeaking tighter out of spite for my own stupidity. Then I wash those suckers. And after my special treatment? They are even smaller.

But I’m stubborn and a bit cheap when it comes to undies. So I cram my business in there anyway. And then I proceed to slowly strangle my legs to death because the leg holes are like rubber bands holding the Sunday paper together. Then you squat down to get a pan out of a cabinet and the *** end of the drawers burst open. That’s fun.

But this time I was trying to concentrate. I had the right size, now I had to find a cut that would be acceptable in a car accident. That’s when girlchild’s musings about the girls modeling the undies become voiced loudly in the Target.

“Mom, why would someone do this to these girls? They look like they really want some clothes.” I try to shoosh her. I praise myself for avoiding the geometric shaped 1980 ‘s colored ones. (Why for pete’s bananas are they still making this fabric and wrapping it around our rumps? Not once has this pattern been useful under white pants nor does it make all the boys want to come to the yard for milkshakes.)

“I think this one is pregnant. Poor thing. Look mom, she’s almost naked!”

Okay, okay, I grab my size and toss it in the cart filled with back to school stuff. (boo-hiss)

We finally get home and six million chores later, I’m done with my shower and ready to indulge in the first pair of undies. And yes I know you are supposed to wash them first, but I’m a wild risk taker. Plus, I already eat hot dogs. What could be worse than that?

It is sort of like a little business card from God when you crack into the package like an egg. I shake out a pale pink color. Then I shake some more.
The panties unfurl like a flag. A really big flag. Damnit.

I take another look at the girl on the cover who I tossed so quickly into the cart to preserve her dignity. She is wearing some seriously monster sized drawers.

Optimistically, I’m hoping she is on the short size. Cause let’s be honest, they aren’t getting a-list models for those Hanes shoots.

I stuff my big meaty sticks into the holes and ease those frickers up. By the time I have them in the correct position, the panties easily cover my belly button. Somehow, they still also hang like long Bermuda shorts.

I frown. I have bought the big panties again. Yes I’ve done it before and because I suck? I’ll do it again.

I put my shorts on. The underwear are coming out the top. Luckily they didn’t hang out the bottom too.



Anyway. Back to Disney. We’re packed up and take our drive through Okkahumpa, which is just flat out a hilarious name for a rest stop.

Things started getting bigger, as they tend to do in Orlando. We start to recognize the landscape. Then we are waiting with baited breath for the purple road signs. Because Mickey is so cool he changes ROAD signs. Amazing.

Following the sign that says “Disney World” feels like pure decadence, doesn’t it? Just slapping Disney on anything makes it more special, but to head your van with purpose towards that crazy sign is just fantastic.

Then we all shout at each other and start to point as the familiar shapes that start peeking over trees. We are headed to POP and I’m excited.

Finally we pull into the check-in parking. Pop did a good job of staying put until I got back. We walked into the lobby and it was packed! I think eight buses and fourteen planes had just landed. The kids, who have memories like elephants, want to head to the waiting room with the TV that they remember from when they were so much smaller. So, as the hubby finds the online check-in, we squeeze ourselves into the cushion filled space.

The people around us are not overwhelmed. They have been in Disney long enough that the magic has become commonplace. The hidden Mickey’s aren’t being noted anymore. But we are high on the Disney. The little touches, the hearty furniture. Soon the Mr. has the folder and we were approved for early check in.

And by early, I mean early. 10:30 am! That’s like getting a whole extra day. We clamor back into the van and follow the map to our building.

We were being housed in the Rubix Cube building. The 80’s had come to life all around us. When first finding our second story room, we go the long way. We only make this mistake once. We wait outside and scan the key card. The door cracks open and now we have real estate for a few days. And if that doesn’t make you feel like you can fart a symphony, I’m not sure what will.

The room has been changed! The Mr. knew to expect the room renovations, but I did not. There were new bedspreads and wallpaper! In the bathroom where the décor was horrific gender-neutral old people in various screams, there was something else! I’m not even sure what it actually was but when I was up late at night pooping, I didn’t feel like I had a mocking audience.

Stacey, the ever-present Disney channel talker chick, is still doing her spiel. A few things she says are new, but mostly the comforting same ol’ same ol’ was on the TV like we had just left a few minutes ago from our last vacation.

Finally all the bags were in and I began my ritual unpacking. There’s the over the door shoe holder that I stick all of our nonsense in, the painted shirts that I hang on the hangers. All of it.

Because we are there. We decorate the window, line up the shoes and then it is time to decide how to spend our day. With no tickets for today we have two choices, pool time or Downtown Disney!

Up next…what choice do we make?

 

[Cinderella's twin]

I thought we were past that!



Very Nice!

You know we are never past it. Hello old friend.

Well, well, well... looks like all the regular groupies are here, and there's already 2 chapters of classic M.T.K. hilarity goin' on. YAY!

Hey baby!! Groupies are reading about poopies...again.

Joining in! You had me before i finished the first page! Can't wait to hear more

Awesome! Anytime I can make someone laugh a hamster poops somewhere. It's a gift. Welcome!

 

[AprilRenee]

Oh my gosh! Not only am I joining in...I'm also going back to read ALL your old TRs!!! I just laughed more in the last 5 minutes than I have all week!!

 

[Cinderella's twin]

Oh my gosh! Not only am I joining in...I'm also going back to read ALL your old TRs!!! I just laughed more in the last 5 minutes than I have all week!!

Aww. Good. I feel bad for you going through the old craziness. Me and Potty humor are good friends. Welcome!

 

[GreatBiscuit]

Anyway.We’re packed up and take our drive through Okkahumpa, which is just flat out a hilarious name for a rest stop.

Yes. Yes it is.

Following the sign that says “Disney World” feels like pure decadence, doesn’t it?

Indeed!

The people around us are not overwhelmed. They have been in Disney long enough that the magic has become commonplace. The hidden Mickey’s aren’t being noted anymore. But we are high on the Disney. The little touches, the hearty furniture.

You do the justice to the honor of all DIS'ers everywhere.

Up next…what choice do we make?

 

[BookTrout]

Holy Moly!!! The last time I laughed this much I got kicked out of a nice restaurant! You have ruined my make-up, gotten me dirty looks from the husband who simply wants some "peace and quiet for goodness sake" and the cat has stalked off to squat in his special position that says "yes, this is my hind end and I'm proud to show it off.". Man, girl, you could write books and I would line up at Barnes and Noble to buy them. Get busy, find Doris and Perry and write some more will you. I won't redo the make-up until I've finished reading your trip report and laughing my "jiggler" off.
Sharon

 

[dellasgirl]

z

 

[Cinderella's twin]

Yes. Yes it is.

Indeed!

You do the justice to the honor of all DIS'ers everywhere.

Well GB, that one reply sounds very Phineas and Ferbie. Are you a fan?

Holy Moly!!! The last time I laughed this much I got kicked out of a nice restaurant! You have ruined my make-up, gotten me dirty looks from the husband who simply wants some "peace and quiet for goodness sake" and the cat has stalked off to squat in his special position that says "yes, this is my hind end and I'm proud to show it off.". Man, girl, you could write books and I would line up at Barnes and Noble to buy them. Get busy, find Doris and Perry and write some more will you. I won't redo the make-up until I've finished reading your trip report and laughing my "jiggler" off.
Sharon

Awww. I love when something I write inspires everyone around you to give you dirty looks and stalk off. Excellent.

Oh boy!!!!!
Another Mrs The King trip report

Seriously? Why is there not a law against me yet.


I also hurt my front right paw recently. It is angering me greatly. I type very slowly with only my left hand. I am trying to rest it so I can type without cringing like a man in a shoe store with his lady.

 

[reelmom]

I love, love, love Mrs The King and her family. I can't wait for more. I have been laughing so hard. My DH just left the room so he could watch TV where it was quiet. Big Baby.

 

[Cinderella's twin]

This afternoon I took my kids to a pool. There were water slides and fun things to climb on. The day was a hot day and the water had a nice chill to it. Boy child was taken with the large slides and pretty much spent his day running up the stairs and zooming down. Girlchild had a fondness for the climbing and the smaller slide. To do my best to watch them both I went in the pool and sat on an underwater bench.

I spent a good 2 ½ hours on the bench, getting visits from the kids from time to time. It was crowded so I had quite an opportunity to people watch. No distractions, no phone, just me and this large group of strangers. Even though my little nook was off to the side, it was a favorite entry point for some reason that was not apparent to me.

So I would sqinch my eyes and prepare for a splash every once in a while. Over my shoulder were two boys, getting ready to join in the fun. I say boys, but really they were teens. I would place them between 16 and 18. The blond one looked almost exactly like Ryan Gossling. (Google him quick if you can’t picture him) The teen behind him was slightly taller with brown hair.

I prepared for the splash, which came. As the boys waded into the cool water I watched the young girls around the pool start to preen for the Ryan Gossling kid (who I will call Ryan for this post.)

He obviously had no trouble getting dates, if he wanted them. But he was oblivious to the girls. His attention went to the dark haired guy whom he called Bro.
Bro and Ryan walked in front of me and both had sheer delight on their faces. After hearing them speak, I picked up on the fact that Bro had special needs. He was reluctant to get his hair wet but was obviously excited to be swimming.

Ryan turned this first obstacle into a game, taking Bro over to a splashing water tree. Bro managed to laugh through it without getting wet. Ryan chuckled and then jumped on his brother’s back, trying to dunk him. Bro just giggled. He was taller and I’m guessing he was a bit older than Ryan.

Finally Ryan said, “Hey, want to go underwater together?”

In a blink they were under. I could only see Bro, but he was smiling. They played the game of talking to each other while staying beneath the waves. When they came back up it was all systems go. Bro and Ryan went on every slide, every climbing structure together.

I’m not sure I’m going to be able to capture it, the look on Ryan’s face. His love for his brother brought tears to my eyes. It was so genuine. It embodied a younger brother’s hero worship for his older sibling. Despite the giant gobs of girls wishing for Ryan’s attention, he would much rather be with Bro.

So in between eye sweeps for my kiddos, I watched these boys. It was a pleasure to see their obvious enjoyment in a simple day at a pool. Did you ever invent a background for a person? I could almost see a fort made out of sheets and Ryan and Bro camping out for hours as kids.

I also noticed the time when Bro slipped away to voice a concern to a lifeguard. I don’t know what he was saying, but it was obviously something he was worried about. The lifeguard’s face was a quick mask of dismissal and a horrible categorization. Bro was being categorized by his mannerism. I wanted to intervene. I wanted to tell her, “No, wait this guy is so important.”

Bro shook his head and walked away, reuniting with Ryan a few minutes later.

I hated that away from his brother he was seemingly so less cherished. I’m just me on a watery step, but I wish we could see each other the way a person that adores us does. Is that making sense?

Ryan’s whole universe rose and set around his brother. And the feeling was obviously mutual. I know the lifeguard was way too busy keeping everyone from drowning, to be a sympathetic ear. And to give her the benefit of the doubt, she may have responded the same way to everyone I just wasn’t watching her.

The mother was there, of these two exceptional boys. She was quiet, smiling. Satisfaction with a job well done? Maybe. Motherhood is a wicked hard job. Done right, there is nothing more rewarding.

It was a lovely day. Of course, being in the pool leads me right back to my trip report. We were trying to decide if we should go to Downtown Disney or the Hippy Dippy pool. We decided to go to Downtown first and get hot enough to want the pool.

When we are in Disney we always drive around, I wish, wish Disney had their own Driving app GPS thing. Their road signs are hilarious. They can and will send you in giant looping merges instead of crossing a simple intersection. I understand it's crowd control, but you have to master the art of the sign. To get to POP you have to follow the hints dropped by Wide World of Sports. Which isn’t All Star Sports, in case you were wondering.

The hubby usually gets back into the swing of things road wise fairly quickly. But we're only here for a few days, so by the time he’s got it down pat, we'll be using his street smarts to leave. Either way we wind up at Downtown Disney. We, of course, turn into the wrong parking lot. In that place going into an early parking lot is like going into a totally different country. You have to recombobulate yourself and find an exit, get on the road, wait for three more lights until you are finally in the right spot.

Of course, on day one, you could throw a wheelbarrow full of jellyfish at me and I'd keep smiling.

First day Disney people are bulletproof, diarrhea proof, and damn near sneeze magic.

I was all of those things. We park in a horrible spot, having to surf like sharks to find one. Then we walk the long walk to the stores. I have a weird relationship with Downtown Disney. It can be a sneak peek or a slap in the butt. When you're there before your time in the parks, it's a precursor to the wonderful. Like VIP service, you get to see the products and sights before you actually are in Mouse House.

Butt after the parks…well, we'll get to that.

Right now it is happy times. It’s right around lunch so we decide on the Earl of Sandwich. We have had this place before and both me and the hubby were like, “Meh.”

I don’t know what alternate universe menu we ordered off of, butt this place was AMAZING. I would milk a tiger right now if it would result in me having one of those Italian subs instantly.

But here’s the thing. There is not enough seating for the crowds. Lord help me I’m so competitive it is ridiculous. Once my small mind realizes there is a shortage of anything my brain goes reptilian. If it’s scarce I must have it. I suck.

So I hastily whisper my order to the Mr. and leave the kids with him. Because they shouldn’t have to witness what Mommy becomes. My eyes hood with my secondary, hard, see-through eyelids. I enlarge my spine like an angry cat. I start farting like a skunk to warn others of the impending danger.

All these other wusses are burdened with food and drinks and children. Not me. I’m a lone wolf prowling for the prey.

I spot the first offering and spring. The table is a two-seater. We have four behinds. This will not work but it allows me a better assessment of the tables in my vicinity. Then I gauge. Who is eating the fastest? Who has the nerve to chat after they are clearly finished ingesting their gruel?

I find two marks and my creepy eyes go from one to the other like a metronome. Finally there's movement. A gathering of bags. Other predators notice the movement, but I’m already up and in a death roll.

I put away my angry eyes, smear my spine back into my skin and halt gas dispersion. When the prey looks up I smile. “Are you done? Why thank you, yes I will take your table, if you don’t mind.”

And then I sit. Proud. I display my feathers and pound my chest. Victorious. I haz a seat.

Now it may be the first one I get, so it is fast. Butt there is a downfall. This real estate had some drawbacks. The line for the drinks is directly behind this new table. The people waiting for the beverages are perching their rumps on the chairs meant for my hubby and one of my kids like birds on a wire.

I pop off a few warning farts. No one moves. My family sees me and settles in. They don’t seem to notice that their seats have unusual head cushions. I say nothing.

Can I just tell you about this freaking sandwich? No, actually I can’t. It is so amazing. The cheese, the bread, the meat. All gooooood. I highly recommend them, but stick to what they are famous for.

So we ate and we loved it.

Next up: What kind of things can we get and will someone please go up in that Hot air balloon?