I'm pretty sure THIS title is safe. From flames. Except from Scientologists.
And, in that case...who cares? Really.
Silent birth. Ha! Yeah. Right. I'd like to see Tom Cruise give birth silently. He can't do ANYTHING silently. From jumping on a couch to "advising" Brooke Shields on her medical issues. Although, apparently, they kissed and made up just last week.
Shudder.
Anywho... I think he's a horror. And it's best he can't do anything silently... so that you can hear it coming. I'm sorry for Katie, his three kids and, especially, that I paid to see Risky Business four times.
Shudder.
Yeah. Yeah. I was underage. I snuck in. FOUR TIMES. Which never would have happened had TOM CRUISE been in charge. Of THAT business. TFI.
Anywho... this has NOTHING to do with my trippie. Except that my beautiful bride came home the other day with new perscription sunglasses. Which make him look like Tom Cruise in Risky Business. To me. I can't STAND them. Shhhh. Don't tell DH. Because I already did... about a thousand times. So far.
It should be illegal for husbands to shop on their own. Except for small hardware store items. Car stuff. Beer. And... chips. Perhaps dip, too. I'm feeling wildly generous today.
I don't like his new sunglasses. Let's move on.
To Italy. L'Originale Alfredo di Roma. And lunch. Yum. Yum.
We got seated inside. At a big round table. Ordered a glass of wine each for DH and myself. Water for everyone. And Cokes for the kids.
Not that there is anything wrong with that hi zzub.
We asked for bread and butter. For the kids. And bread, olive oil and balsamic vinegar for us. We also ordered calamari. For everyone.
But not everyone got any. Just the kids. Got some. It was gone in seconds. Just like this summer seemed to go. TFI.
Our kids LOVELOVELOVE breaded calamari. Only because they think it's chicken.
Chicken fingers specifically. The parts with the tentacles.
They think it is chicken because of this: I told them it was.
When they were smaller and afraid of trying anything new. I called it "Chewy Chicken". And they bought it. Hook, line and sinker. Because they had had "Chewy Chicken" lots of times. At The General's. Which was actually... in fact... chicken. TFI.
Now, though, they know it is squid. And STILL they hogged it all. I attempted to get some of it by telling them of a trip I took to the Greek Islands. And watching the fishermen pounding the squid on the stones on the beach. Or a wall up the beach. Trying to get the ink out. I think.
I have no idea what they were doing. Except that... it looked like fun.
Heh heh.
The story failed to work and the kids ate all the Chewy Chicken. Which served me right. In the long run.
I ordered one order of the Alfredo to split with Beth. Mellyman ordered the pizza with wild mushrooms and proscuitto on it. Calvin and Tommy ordered spagetti and meatballs.
I have NO IDEA how anyone else's meal was. I only know that the Alfredo, there, at Italy in Epcot... is one of the best things I've ever eaten. Beth fully agrees. We eat it really slowly and savour it. Because it is WAY too rich to have a ton of. You would barf, TFI, hi zzub. We split one order which is plenty. For us. DO NOT OVERDO THIS RIDE I CALL: cheese and butter and noodles with butter and cheese and butter with extra cheese on top of the cheese and butter noodles... for good measure. Because, unlike riding the Haunted Mansion and Mission Space... you CAN get sick on this one.
We ate and enjoyed this meal. Fully.
Mellyman and the boys seemed quite happy as well. But... not as happy as Beth and I.
Plus... our waiter was SO nice, attentive and handsome. He made me want to go back to Italy. Again.
And I will some day. We all will. I want to go back. Only... not alone this time. And not nineteen years old. And full of adventure. And STUPID...ish.
What I learned was this, though: If you can survive the public transit system in Italy and Greece. Being young, alone and very blond. You can survive ANYTHING life hands you. TFI.
I don't know why I didn't add a Disclaimer? Here. For the Scientologists and the Italians. I'm gonna be looking around every corner for... John Travolta. Today.
Anyhow... lunch was great. We paid and tipped and finished our glass of wine and headed out.
For dessert.
For the kids.
We wandered back to Japan and got some Kaki Goris for the kids.
I will tell you the correct Japanese Method of Kaki Gori-ing.
First you pick your flavour. The youngest child must pick the darkest, most likely to permanently stain. Flavour. Like... cherry. Or STRAWBERRY.
Then you hand it to them. Very full and in a flimsy cup.
Make sure they have a good grip on it. And are holding it tight against their chest. On their NEW t-shirt. Which cost too much money. TFI. Make sure the t-shirt is white. Unlike I have done. By accident.
After they have rubbed it about onto their clothing. Be certain to provide them with A STICK.
To eat with.
Because it is WAY more challenging, fun and messy. Than a plain ol boring SPOON.
Get the stick. Of fun.
Next... watch as they proceed to smear it everywhere. Drip it down their face. Make their lips and tongue blood red. Along with their chin. Shins. Socks and shoes. Or feet. If wearing sandals.
Then when you can't take it anymore... do this:
Yes. Make them sit down.
And take their shirt off. Realize it is stained tremedously. And let your husband proceed to do this:
This:
And this:
While you go shopping into the American Adventure Heritage Manor. Nearby. For a new shirt.
Which is fun.
Until you see the price.
And decide to give the shirt a quick rinse in the bathroom and let him drip dry. 'Cause it's hot outside. After all.
However... while I was wandering around carrying a tiny, gooey size 6 shirt... I noticed the Ukrainian Easter Egg aka The Pysanky Chick. And her display. And I thought of my Mother. The General. Who is of similar background. And who, along with my Baba (Grandmother) attempted to teach me the fine art of egg-making.
I failed.
I was very impatient. Too young. Not creative enough. And I preferred to watch wrestling and play poker or euchre with my Uncle. Dad. And Grandfather.
Sooooo... I never learned.
Anything except for this phrase: Clovers are led. Shovels are trump.
And then I got my butt soundly kicked.
I decided it was time to mail The General a postcard. And a couple for the cat, too. I always send the cat more postcards than my Mother.
It's my way.
Anywho... I was digging around in the bottom of my DVC Knapsack when I came up with a pen... which was what I was looking for... along with stamps. And... ANOTHER POST CARD.
An old one. From our LAST trip. When the happyhaunts went South. Right before Christmas.
This postcard was all written out and addressed. To my General. It said: We are having a fantastic trip... blah blah blah... Merry Christmas!
I decided, being a thrifty happyhaunt, to just add: We are STILL having a great time... yada yada... Have a GREAT MOTHER'S DAY! Too.
And avoid buying a new card for her.
I just bought three for the cat. Instead.
Really nice ones.
Mailed them off right there. In the good ol USA in World Showcase. There is a mailbox there. On a post. That the ladies working in the store didn't even know about. They were busy directing me all over Epicot to mail them. Until I convinced them there was one right there. Beside their store. One of them actually came out to look with me. She didn't believe me.
That's when my beautiful bride commented that I KNOW way too much about Disney. And that I probably should get a life.
And a job.
Heh heh.
This IS a job. TFI.
But... a fun one.
With no pay.
Or benefits.
Except for tearing the occassional strip off of ZZUB.
Back to the Easter Eggs. I took my time. A long time. Enough time for the kids to all do the Kidcot Station there behind her booth. And FINALLY picked the perfect Easter Egg. The most colourful, traditional, beautiful, intricate design. On it.
I bought it along with a stand. For The General. For Mother's Day.
Because sometimes... I like to please her. Almost as much as I like to torment her.
Then it was on to Test Track. To use our FASTPASSES! That Mellyman had picked up before lunch. By entering the park. Alone. All by himself. And using all our Annual Passes.
It worked. I SWEAR.
I would not lie. About that.
About other things. But not THAT.
We just had a small wait.
See:
See my handsome, delicate bride? His tiny shirt reads: There is a place for all God's creatures... Right next to the Potatoes and Gravy!
I bought it. For him.
And... now I need another Disclaimer. I think.
You realize, don't you, that JOHN TRAVOLTA is a vegetarian too.
And now... my greatest nemesis. Next to ZZUB.
We did Test Track. Again. Thought of my Mother. Fondly(ish). And moved on to one of our favourite places.
The Ice Station Cool. I think. That is the name. Now? Who knows.
It's the COKE PLACE... not that there is anything WRONG with THAT!
Where you can try different Coke Products from around the world.
Why, might you ask, is it one of my favourites?
It is because Calvin, my brainchild, always FORGETS HE HATES THE BEVERLY!
EVERY BLOODY TIME!!!!!!
Heh heh.
At this point Mellyman, Beth and I just stand in a row and watch him in there for the first three minutes.
Same time. Same station. Same drink. Same face.
Tommy ignors him. And does his own thing. Avoiding the Beverly. Like the rest of... THE WORLD.
For the love of Pete!
Maybe it's a Koala thing. Who knows?
Then, later, he drinks from a Big Fake Coke Bottle Bank.
Not that there is anything wrong with that.
Whew.
I'm done for today.
Except for this:
Have you seen that picture of John Travolta and "The Kiss"? Recently?
I also think John Travolta may be playing for the other team. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
To be continued. Up next: Continuing around Epcot. Soaring. And stuff.
I've worked my way through this TR over the past few days and I love it. I love your writing style and you have such a great family and adorable kids!!! Plus this is one of the funniest TRs I have ever read. Rock on, Mel!! 
& 
routine....where i only needed to whisper 
...ps..i used to wear special shoes with taps!
just after one....i had to carry her..and that's was a long
..but i have some friends down there, & they said disney posting 
..not saying there are similarities... 
..in the rear, but wanted 
experiences!
out!
doin the happy dance, as vettechick99 would say... 5 hours and counting!! kathye
