An Inconvenient Truth: happyhaunt Style! (New... pg. 113!)

[tiggerwannabe]

I am only on page 51 of this looooong masterpiece...

I had to come over and say how I'm lovin your trippie~

You're fun and creative and a very visual character...

Thank you for taking the time to allow us to share in your Wonderful World of Disney~

Colleen.

 

[tonga]

So happy you're back!!!

 

[samc]

YEA!!!!!!!!.....glad you're back....hope everyone stays healthy at your house.....ROLL TIDE and Merry Christmas!!!

 

[1000thhappyhaunt]

It was to be an Epcot Day. We were takin' it easy. The kids woke up and voted to go down to the terrible Clown Pool and spend the morning swimming.

I voted to sleep in.

Mellyman voted to sleep in.

I voted that Mellyman should take them to the terrible Clown Pool and let me sleep in.

Somehow I won the election.

There were dimpled chads, pregnant chads, hanging chads (and three other non-related terms which make me equally dizzy with nausea upon reading)... and the promise of three wishes to be granted. Later. Much.

And, the obvious fact, that I still am able to sleep in. Late. Very late, even. When given the rare chance. While Mellyman has been getting up very early for so many years in a row. To go to his office. Or to play hockey. That he is now pretty much... UNABLE... to sleep past 8 o'clock. Even when he really tries to.

Then... I go back to the power of the three wishes.

As usual.

I always promise Mellyman that I'll grant three of his wishes. When I want something. From him. That he doesn't necessarily want to give. Up.

Now, we've been together going on sixteen years now... if my math is correct.

I hate math. BTW. TFI. FBI. AOL. TLC. XYZ. 123.

And... this is something I now realize (and will share with you complete strangers, for the most part): Mellyman only has TWO wishes. Ever. And... offering up a third one is a waste of both our time. Straight up.

In fact, it stresses him out. Frankly. To come up with a third wish. It's always something lame.

Like world peace.

From now on I'll just offer TWO wishes. Of course, that appears like I'm getting lazy in my old age. Or that I'm taking him for granted after all our years together. Or that I don't, necessarily, want world peace.

But... I DO. I want the real world to be just like It's A Small World.

Or do I?

Anyhow... I got to sleep in. And I really needed to. Because I was tired from the night before.

Mellyman: Ok. We'll be back in awhile. Have a nice sleep-in.
Me: Thanks. I'm not feeling so well from all that German food, Melly.
Mellyman: It's not the food. You've been Jagermeistered.
Me: I have NOT. It was the food. Jagermeister is supposed to be medicinal. It's supposed to settle my stomach and make me feel better.
Mellyman: Not when you drink rapid-fire shots of it. On top of a BIG HUGE beer. Honey-lamb.
Me: Oh.
Mellyman: Didn't THAT occur to you, Blondie?
Me: No. I guess I'm just dumb.
Mellyman: And annoying. And silly. And insane. And bossy. And too competitive. And...
Me: But... you STILL think I'm pretty. Right?
Mellyman: I only married you because you were pretty. It was a decision I made based purely on your looks. Remember?
Me: That's it? No other redeeming qualities?
Mellyman: I also liked your butt. In fact, everytime I tried to concentrate on breaking up with you, your butt...

At this point, in our morning, Beth slapped her hands over both ears and started to shriek, "PLEASE! You're warping me again, PARENTS. Let's go to the pool!"

Heh heh.

I think our oldest daughter is turning out quite well, nonetheless. All of them. In fact.

Of course, I may be wrong. I'll let you all know in fifteen years.

Because NO parenting manuals have been harmed... so far. Or even opened. In THIS experiment.

They went to the pool and I went back to sleep.

For a second. It seemed.

Then the door banged open and they were all back.

Magically.

They had had a swim and gotten treats at the Boardwalk Bakery. In the reverse order. They were happy.

I was feeling better. I just needed some water. And I would be ready to rate our second meal at The Biergarten on the Pepto-B Scale.

It was a four. Four SHOTS. Of Pepto-B. Were required to soothe my savage beast. I mean... mind, body and spirit. Especially spirit. Because of the spirits.

Not that I was hung over. I'm not sayin' that. Even if I WERE. Because my friend Celery thinks I manage to work alcohol into just about every chapter. And that sorta sounds bad. Like I like to drink. Too much.

On the OTHER HAND I, similarily, work plenty of running themes into PLENTY of my chapters. Like ZZUB. References to ZZUB and other zzubtleties (Oh looky... I made up a new word!) into plenty of chapters. And, we ALL know... that I don't like ZZUB's trip reports. Too much. If at all.

SO THERE.

Now then: What I'm sayin' is that two shots of Jagermeister + one BIG HUGE beer + weiner salad, weinerschnitzel + sauerbraten = 1 sleep in + 4 shots of Pepto-B + 1/2 roll of toilet paper.

Not necessarily in that order.

Moving on.

Rolling tide. Twice. La de da.

And meaning it.

We had three showers. Some of us. But not all of us. Work out the math.

And then headed for Epcot.

Stopping once on the Boardwalk to get pizza slices from the take-out window for the kids. Who were magically hungry again.

Then Tommy did this:

And this:

It was all good. Especially his shirt. That's my favourite kids' shirt. Which I've made all three of them wear in turn.

Yep. More interesting happyhaunt trivia.

Or is it?

We hit Epcot and headed straight for Turtle Talk.

I got in line. As usual. While the rest of the happyhaunts played in the mouth of a shark. Checked out the Kidcot Station. Made themselves little suits of chum. And headed back to taunt the shark.

Calvin ran back to me and asked if I wanted Daddy to take my picture in the shark's mouth.

I told him to run back and tell Daddy that I'd take MY OWN picture in the shark's mouth if he'd take my place in the line.

He ran off.

He came back.

No dice.

Ran off again.

Finally the doors to Turtle Talk opened and the line started moving in.

The happyhaunts joined me. And we went to talk with Crush.

Which we all enjoy because it is always a little different each time.

And we've been chosen, thanks to our forehead "Pick Me!" stamps, a bunch of times. To participate.

Do you know that Crush is 152 years old? Just slightly older than my mother.

Do you know that Crush says "Dude" like every second word?

Do you know that Crush can pick Me(l) out of a crowd even when I'm slouching down in the second row trying to NOT get picked.

Oh yeah.

Do you know that I harshly insulted Crush by asking him where he lays his eggs?

Do you know, Dude, that Crush is a DUDE. Turtle?

And that I might as well have complimented him on his lipgloss and suggested we go to the ladies room together.

Yep.

I called Crush a "girl" and started out our day at Epcot makin' friends.

All around.

Cheers, Mel.



To be continued. Up next: Some ab fab pictures. Lunch and makin' more friends.

Or did I?

 

[Ready to go in Ok]

Awesome, as usual!

 

[Goofster57]

Wow, with all this math I am being asked to do and trying to keep your trip reports straight, since I am reading both of them at the same time (one with my left eye and the other with my right eye) I am more confused then when I try and figure out the “Back to the Future” trilogy.

Well I am a product of the Orange County California School system, not to say there is anything wrong with that, but think off-spring of the OC Housewives..nuff said

Really enjoying your TR’s, can’t wait for the next installment..to one of them not sure which

 

[MommyPoppins]

I tried to send you one. But I couldn't so here it is:

Hey there! Long time no type. What happened to the blog? I went to check in today and it's gone! I also checked into M2, just got kicks. LLK's back and undercover.

Well, sadly, I haven't been reading your trip report. Or anyone. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just can't find my mojo anymore. We are going this afternoon for a weekend at Disney. Staying at CBR.

Well, I just wanted to drop a line to say, "hi".

So bye.


PS. Maybe if you have your TR in a word file, you could send it to me? hehe
Amanda

 

[1000thhappyhaunt]

I tried to send you one. But I couldn't so here it is:

Just wanted to say thanks for remembering me. And thanks for continuing to read and post to this stupid thing.

I just wanted to let anyone who is interested. Out there in the Land of Dis. That I have FINALLY... yes, finally... cleaned house.

AKA: I can receive PM's now. Once again.

If anyone wants to drop me a line. Or send me some money. Or a fruitcake.

I'm having a bit 'o trouble with baking my own. I'm on round 2... giving the good ol college try... this weekend.

Cheers, Mel.

 

[mlill]

I'll PM you, if you PM me!

Oh, and good luck with that fruitcake.

I made one last year and now I use it as a door stopper!

Keep the TRs coming!

I'm officially addicted.

To your way of writing.

Cheers!
-Michelle

 

[PrincessV]

Excellent to see not just one but TWO new installments upon my return to reality

And, like others before me, you may have me convinced to try Biergarten next trip. I'm pretty sure it was the Jagermeister that swayed me.

There were dimpled chads, pregnant chads, hanging chads (and three other non-related terms which make me equally dizzy with nausea upon reading)...

And thanks, for that. Like we here in FL really needed yet another reference to our election problems, er... opportunities for improvement.

 

[WheatThins]

Great report. Thanks for sharing.

Wheat Thins

 

[BONITATIME]

Thanks for comming back and telling us some more. I can just about remember that feeling. It is the one that made me blame the food, it always has to be the food.

 

[kollektorin]

GreatGreatGreat ​

 

[LaLa]

Epcot

Okay, you misspelled it. Again. Or did you?

Mellyman only has TWO wishes. Ever.

I bet I can guess what his two wishes are. Yep. It's the same thing every man wants from his wife.

A four hour fruitcake and a kickin' pedicure.

No? Not even close? Well slap me sideways. It's back to the drawing board.

Somehow I won the election.

I'm so glad to hear that cause I didn't want to eat chimichangas next year.

Mellyman: Didn't THAT occur to you, Blondie?
Me: No. I guess I'm just dumb.

For some strange reason, this exchange sounds vaguely familiar to me. I'm not sure why. Maybe all that guacamole I had for lunch is messing with my head. No typo.

I loved it Melly my Melly. We really miss you when you're not around, you know. Anyway, I hope you show up soon because ZZUB's taken to hittin' the sauce and making a fool of himself on The View since you've been gone.

It's said. And also, slightly nauseating.

 

[javamom]

Good job thus far, Me(l) as usual. We are off to the World again in the AM!!

 

[moose1283]

Hello Hello Mel where are you.

 

[__disneygirl]

yes, what happened! Hope all is well... I miss reading the updates!

 

[pongoperdigirl]

Hey Melly Poo.
Hope all is well.

 

[1000thhappyhaunt]

We finished up with Turtle Talk with Crush. I, unwittingly, called him a female turtle. Rudely asked about eggs or something. Offended the poor DUDE. And slunk outta there.

Wishing I had the neuticles to stand there... Man to Turtle and say:

"DUDE! Sorry about the lame killabrenda. I can't believe I called you an Emma. A babe. A babelini. Even. What was I thinkin', Brah? Totally agg. Bummer. I feel like an epic Barney. But...anywho... SINISTER SHOW!!!! Ripper, Duder! I gotta bail. Sorry I was so bogus."

Yep. It was one of those moments to stand up and do the right thing.

And I waved it goodbye.

Again.

Totally shommy!

Heh heh.

So we left. And stood around in The Living Seas. Right in the middle. In everyone's way. Deciding what to do. We decided to leave.

Or did we?

It seemed, that fateful day, that all five happyhaunts had different ideas about what our NEXT Disnefied Ac-T-ion. Should be.

Beth, for example, wanted to check out the stuff in the gift shop area. Near the exit. But... not actually... BUY anything. Just looky. At it.

Calvin wanted to see the manatee poop again. And eat alot of lettuce. And, failing that, to go to the souvenier area and squander his not-so-hard-earned
money. From The Revered/Loathed General. As quickly and as effortlessly as possible.

Because... money doesn't seem to have any meaning meaning to our middle son. None, nada, zero, zilch, ZIP, nup, zebo, bita, cherube.

No meaning is what I'm saying. Here.

(Some of the above terms may be confusing. Consult your handy dandy pocket thesaurus. Or PM ZZUB.)

Oh.

This reminds me of a recent happyhaunt happening. A trip to the grocery store with my middle son. I gave Calvin $5.00 on the way in. For nuttin'. For absolutely ZIP. Just for being him. Because I love him. And I wanted him to help carry stuff. We had literally FOUR (4) items to purchase. And beat it out of there.

4

Just...4.

We got apple juice, grape juice, orange juice and tomato juice.

Hold on.

Is that four items or just one?

Oh.

Just one. I think.

And, so you see, how I manage to get 130 things into the Express Checkout lane at the grocery store.

Yep.

That's RIGHT.

I'M the one. You're gunning for.

Anyway... by the time we were on our way out. Calvin stopped. Started crying and sad, "MOM! I lost my money!"

I asked him HOW? He said that he must have just LET GO of it. Sometime. In the last five minutes.

We looked. We asked. We described our lost item.

$5.00 bill. Canadian currency. Picture of Sir Wilfrid Laurier on the one side. On the back there's a picture of kids playing hockey. Yada. Blah.

No money.

It was gone.

Lost.

In five minutes. Right out of his hand. Like it mattered not a bit. To him.

I don't get it.

What I'm saying is it was typical. I shouldn't have been surprised.

And, no, we do NOT let him carry his own money at Disney.

Your dollar is WAY more valuable than ours.

But ours is prettier.

So. THERE.

Back to Disney.

Tommy wanted to watch the manatee poop, too. But he also wanted a Caesar Salad.

Which grossed me out.

Mellyman wanted to use the restroom. The little bride's room. For a minute.

And I didn't know WHAT I wanted to do.

So.

We went to look at all the sea critters. Via the way of the tanks. Watching all the little fish and stuff swimming around.

I saw this:

I immediately thought: Chicken fingers.

The General's all-purpose horrible/tasty orange carrot jelly mould.

Starfruit.

Portabella mushroom.

Uhhh...errr... fish.

Well!

I realized that I was pretty hungry. And let Mellyman know when he returned from the bathroom.

He agreed and we decided to head out.

Via the way of the souvenier shop.

So Beth could look.

The boys didn't bother to look but instead started some trouble.

It began with the usual. The Brotherly Assault of LOVE.

Calvin decided to kick Tommy in the leg. Out of the blue. Or out of boredom. Or frustration. Or happiness. Or because he's tired. Or hungry. Or it's his birthday. Or he's partying like it's 1999.

What a prince!

And after he clocks him... he looks around. To see if I saw him.

If I did. And... if I'm staring at Calvin. Hard.

He finishes the assault by grabbing Tommy and hugging him. Hard.

While still looking at me.

It's the way of the Brothers.

Calvin tells Tommy to follow him and they race out of the building.

We follow. And walk a little way down the path and stop and decide where to go and eat. I was pretty hungry and was busy picturing a nice basket of Nemo and chips. Tartar. Lemon. Coleslaw.

While we talked... we let the kids play.

They decide to play via the way of the Samurai.

Beth: Mom. The boys are fighting over there on the grass.
Me(l): Fighting or just playing?
Beth: Totally fighting.
Me(l): Who's winning?
Beth: Calvin.

I look. Mellyman doesn't.

Mellyman: How's Tommy?
Me(l): I think the Christians did better with the lions.

Mellyman yells for the boys to come and join us.

And I can't believe they are actually fighting at Disney.

AT DISNEY.

Calvin's face is blind rage.

They are rumpled.

Sweaty.

Stressed.

It was real fighting. They were going to town. Not just doing the Ultimate Playfighting thing.

Maybe everyone was hungry. Bored. Happy. Sad. Whatever.

But... no one FIGHTS at DISNEY!!!

Come ON!!!!

And... no one DIES at Disney. Either.

Even in a planecrash.

Yeah. Right.

Tell me it again. See if I'm that naive.

Actually... PLEASE tell me that on Space Mountain. Just on Space Mountain. I want to hear it. There. I want to be naive.

I want to believe it completely and utterly.

Just as I believe the Fettucine Alfredo in the Italy Pavillion at Epicot is NOT a suicide attempt.

On my part.

So I called my animals in.

They came by twosies, twosies.

They came by twosies, twosies.

A blondie and a Koala-roosie, roosie!

I asked what was going on? Why in the world were they fighting at Disney?

It was Tommy. Apparently.

He had licked Calvin. When they ran outside and were... at that point... just playfighting.

He had the gall to LICK his brother!

Calvin freaked.

And they became like poetry in motion.

The poetry of war.

Calvin wanted to pummel his brother. For real.

Never mind that Tommy, himself, has been licked hundreds of times more. By Calvin. Since birth. As a form of torment.

The Brotherly Assault of LOVE.

Anywho... Mellyman launched into giving them CRAP. Up one side of them. And down the other side. Forwards. Backwards, even.

He GAVE THEM CARP!!!

And I asked them both, "Is this over? Now? ARE you both EVEN STEVEN?"

They nodded.

I asked if they both got some good shots in.

Nodded.

EVEN STEVEN. Then.

Yup.

Live by the Code. Die by the Code.

It's gotta come out. In the end. Feeling equal. Both of them.

I asked if they ALSO would like to head out like civilized gentlemen and get some food.

Nodded.

We sent them ahead of us.

It's good it came out well. in the end. Because Calvin had better watch himself. When he picks on his little brother.

Because Tommy has some mad skillz. Wit scissors:

Let me tell ya.

Heh heh.

Anyhow... as we walked towards The Land.

Behind the boys.

It seemed all was well again. Peace restored and they looked like friends again. Walking close beside each other. Calvin whispering to Tommy.

I felt happy.

Maybe we COULD be one of those families. Those Disney Families that never fight. That smile all the time. That are polite. That enjoy those Magical Moments. All the time.

Oh we have ours. Don't get me wrong.

I just want more. Of them.

Like this one.

The boys walking together. Through Disney.

In the sunshine.

And... singing... at the top of their lungs:

"WHEN YOU'RE SLIDING INTO THIRD AND YOU SMELL THE JUICY TURD...

D-I-A-R-R-H-E-A!!!!!! DIARRHEA!!!!!!!"


Sigh...





Cheers, Mel.

To be continued: With more stuff!!!!

Roll Tide!!!!

 

[DJR]

Welcome back Mel! Been a loooong time. Now I have to go back and figure out where you were when you stopped posting. For that matter, I have to figure out which trippie you're on now.