Chapter 3
Interviews, food poisoning, my cockroach friend and riding the Maddahorn in Disney world (didnt think there was a Maddahorn in Disney world?? There is!!)
So we check into our Hotel at 10:00 am. I selflessly let Mr. The King shower and nap first. He was the driver after all. Punching and flicking for hours at a time doesnt exert any energy at all. I feel refreshed, like a day at the spa. I take the kids to the pool (actual kids, actual pool ~ more about my bowels later if you are disappointed about that)
The pool is outdoor, but heated. When we checked the temperature on our way to our room, it seemed like the giant pool was about 101 degrees. I figured my fancy big toe sensor was off a little due to exhaustion (not that I minded skipping a nap, as soon as I borrowed the concierges stapler and created that just back from the plastic surgeon I am sooo awake look I was great. Dandy. Dandilito. Loving it. But that crazy hotel was apparently very happy to lay out $400,000 a day to soak The Jiggler (my butt). It was spa temperature. I thought about that Oprah show where Dr. Oz said boiling your privates in a hot tub was more dangerous than baring all in Georgia

. Hmm. I think he said you get STDs, pregnant, and a pet monkey

. Would that advice translate to a large pool? I am sure I dont care. In we go. It was heaven (sorry Dr. Oz). We soaked, splashed and laughed in the cess pool of germs. My kids swim underwater with no swimmies and I am endlessly proud of them. After about 6 hours (Mr. The King claimed it was 10 minutes) we sloshed up to the room. The kids, our new pet monkeys, and I immediately shower up. I am pretty sure that hotel soap kills all STDs. I am more than a little numb and fuzzy at this point. I am pretty sure we got Oprah pregnant because we went into a pool thinking about Dr. Oz. Make note to see if they are registered in Target so I can send a baby gift

. Tuck the kids into bed and collapse. Really hope they fall asleep
everything goes black. Thank Heavens for room darkening curtains.
Shazzam. We wake up at 4:30pm. It is so bizarre to sleep that long in the middle of the day. It was like we added an extra day to the vacation. I dont suggest this method though. To confuse our meager brains further we walk across to Cracker Bear (PS calls Cracker Barrel this so it has been renamed.. They just havent gotten around to switching the signs) to eat breakfast for dinner. Yum. Love Cracker Bear.
You will find out a lot about me in the upcoming trip report, but nothing is more embarrassing then what I am about to tell you.
I am a four pegger

. If you hearken back to my Janet Jackson style car wash, you will remember that I am a very competitive person. Cracker Bear has a device that has been designed to thwart me. The triangle with the golf tees. I leave four pegs. Sometimes I leave three pegs. Mr. The King does not do much better. We have two kids egging us on..Big sweet, adoring eyes watching our repeated failures. There must be a trick. I wish I knew it. I wish my mother knew this trick and hoarded it from me for 30 plus years, oh wait
that wish comes true. More on that later. The Kings are full on breakfast. Time to go to bed.
Next up is my visit to my Grandfathers house. My Grandfather is amazing

. At 88 years old, he will have you laughing so hard you will wet your pants and your cheeks will hurt for hours. Besides enjoying a visit with my Grandfather and his third wife (an amazing lady we love from the top of her beautiful head to her sweet toes!) I had an ulterior motive. I wanted interview him on camera. I wanted to ask about his life, parents and brothers. I wanted his laughter, smile, and humor on video . At Christmas time

The Kings put on a Holiday Show on Christmas Eve. The kids put on skits

, we sing Christmas carols, and most importantly, interview all members attending the Holiday. I had to twist some arms to get this tradition started, but I am so glad I did. We love to watch the show every year. I wanted to have my Grandpa and his wife in the show, so that was my excuse to get them on camera. I was rewarded with a video that gets tears rolling down my face. It is beautiful. My grandfather being himself saying he would give his left lug nut for a Manhattan, seeing my daughter sit in his lap and sing in her sweet voice to him . My son and grandfather talking shop about cars , their matching passion. I would drive 17 hours straight again today to see him. (well, make Mr. The King drive while I co-pilot)
Next up we storm a brand new castle
Visiting my parents.
Little parent back story. They moved to Florida about 9 years ago. My mother is the queen of hooking her kids up with the good stuff. Whatever we dream, my parents have always worked their tails off to try to get it for us

. So Disney came into their picture and ours. Both parents signed up to work at Disney, at one point working seven days a week between Universal and Disney. Character greeters, toll booth collectors, driving busses and boats

. How do you thank you parents for this devotion? The Kings get addicted to The World and use every free ticket they get. Thanks Mom and Dad, we love you !! (they are reading this).
They have since changed their status to seasonal and made their schedule more manageable. They have also just moved to a new place. On Thursday. We are arriving on Sunday. Nothing says welcome to your new home like the tornado that is The King Family for a week long visit. We walk in to many hugs and laughs. And a house that looks like they have lived in it for four years. They had been working non stop to set up the house for us. The house had been vacant for a while before they moved in. 300 plus days to be exact. In those 300 days some other things were setting up their home too. The Jiggler is doomed

.
As we normally do, The King and I (haha) dump our kids and try and get some quality time. My romantic King is going to take me on a date. Dinner and a movie. Awww. How wonderful. So he takes me to the mall food court for dinner

. Weird Food court with few name brand stores. Walking past the Chinese food stall, we are tempted by the chicken on a toothpick. Yum says Mr. The King, Yum says Mrs. The King. We order our dinner from the Illustrious Farting Dragon

(or whatever it was called). With out the toothpick delivery system the gelatinous chicken was much less appealing. Mrs. The King refrains from the chicken and Mr. The King dives in like the man he is. We toast our plastic cups and get giddy about going Home the next day. You see the castle is mine; I just let you all borrow it most of the time. We say see you later to The Puking Dragon. Little does The Jiggler know that by avoiding the chicken it has saved itself a horrible fate. Poor Mr. The King. We go off to Blades of Glory where I eat my favorite dinner of popcorn, Rasinets and a wheelbarrow full of Coke

(sorry UtahMama Coke rocks
MMmm). We have a great time and head to my parents. Tuck the happy kids in bed *whisper tomorrow we are going to Mickeys house* And snuggle into bed. Did you hear that? Mrs The King says to her love. It sounded like a gurgle followed by a little scream. Mr. The King thinks it might be his tummy. Mrs. The King goes to bed dreaming of Mickey head
crocs and Character Connection in Epcot

.
Mr. The Kings story, told by Mrs. The King in his deeper voice (except when he screams like a girl

)
Well, I had eaten the foolhardy chicken that my wise wife avoided. I dont care if it was the consistency of jello and had more hard parts then a boneless chicken should ever have. I ate it. It was dinner. A nice romantic dinner for my hard punching wife. She loves shopping. I took her to the mall. She loves the mall. Why is she complaining? Woman are so confusing. I think I will go throw a wet towel on the bed, there now I feel better (insert girlie scream

).
After my stomach realized that eating at the Regurgitated Lizard was a bad choice

, I had to be in and out of the bathroom a lot. Mrs The King slept like an angel throughout

. She never snores or drools. I had time between the stomach spasms to admire her beauty and grace

. I am a lucky man. Hour after hour, magazine after magazine, the chicken is still having its way with me. Mrs. The King wakes up to tinkle. She spots a cockroach and I beat my chest and kill it for her. She smiles, wishes my stomach well, and takes the unbitten Jiggler off to bed. Is that birds I hear? Did she just fart pixie dust that smells like roses?

She is amazing.
Chicken is knocking to get out again

. Mr The King sits down. Ouch. Hmm I sat down wrong. So tired after all the awakness. Sit down, Ouch! (Large Girlie Scream

) Jump up, there is the culprit! Not the chicken trying to get in the way it came out but a cockroach. He was biting my butt. He is now doing the backstroke. He is flushed. Now I have to resume my illness not knowing where this bug came from. Did he crawl out of the toilet? Will he bring his friends next time?

Stomach and chicken still wrestling
Must sit down again. The stress, the anticipation. It is like an evil Fear factor involving butts.
End of Mr. The Kings story as told by Mrs. The King (I am sure that he will agree that is exactly how it happened

)
We wake up in the morning and laugh at Mr. The Kings misfortune because that is how we roll. My mother informs us that the bug is not a cockroach, but a palmetto bug. Did you ever notice how Floridians rename common things to make them more spectacular? Like the good ol screened in porch, in Florida it magically becomes a Lanai. Well isnt that fancy. I just spotted a cute palmetto bug on the lanai. When I retire to Florida I am renaming The Jiggler. It will be known as The General . I hope The General never gets bitten by a palmetto bug on the lanai.
Today is the day. Sure some holes are redder than others, but nothing stops The Kings. Not even all night rides on The Maddahorn. That is right, we call the toilet the Maddahorn when we are in Disney. It is our code word. We are very tricky. Mr. The King had a fast pass to The Maddahorn, but we will plunge forward with our one day visit.
Next up..Crowds, magic, and almond failure