It really had been a magical evening. However, we had driven our rented vehicle to the Magic Kingdom that day, and as we hit the road, I kept a careful watch on the road signs and all those little multidirectional arrows.
Unfortunately for me, the arrows pointed once and ONLY once, to POR. I kept waiting for confirmation to turn, but none came. As a result, we missed that turn, and went hurtling headlong in the wrong direction. We wound up in Celebration feeling anything but
festive, and at a rather late hour.
Once we finally returned home to POR for the night, we made SURE to stop at the front desk to have them reissue our Keys to the World. We may be forgetful, but we are not wholly irresponsible, and did not wish to be blamed the next morning if our keys failed in the turnstiles AGAIN, thus apparently setting off another round of El Nino, gasoline price increases, and the onset of the bird flu pandemic.
The CM who reissued our keys for us gave us the very same song and dance about keeping cell phones and credit cards away from the DisKeys. I mentally pushed the “mute” button and smiled and nodded pleasantly at his nonsense.
I felt very smug indeed as we walked back to our room that night. No early morning “naughty, naughty” lecture from the CM’s at the Magic Kingdom turnstiles for us tomorrow!
And a good thing it was, too, for by now you all know how fond I am of “the Plan”, regardless of the fact that we have yet to follow one for any real length of time. But we have no time in the schedule tomorrow, our first BIG Magic Kingdom day (up until now, you understand, we had only indulged in partial days), for any ticket problem nonsense at the turnstiles.
I was so pleased with myself for remembering to have our tickets reissued. I believe I may have chortled. But only in a delicate and feminine sort of way, mind you, that does not remotely resemble, say…
snoring.
That evening, as we got ready for bed, Nana confessed that she just didn’t get this Port Orleans, Riverside, and French Quarter thing. How many resorts were they? And what was with the names? I tried to explain, but the result was a tired and cranky rush of babbling accompanied by a rather poorly executed Venn diagram.
I’m afraid Nana emerged from the whole experience no more enlightened than before we’d started, and perhaps even considerably less so.
We both decided to give up and just go to bed. I’m sure this was for the best.
The next morning, we kicked it into high gear as soon as we woke up and endeavored to get to the Magic Kingdom gates at opening time. Bunny was wearing a t-shirt that I had designed for her.
“Bunny”, as you may know, is my daughter’s cybername, and her real name starts with the letter “M”. So on her t-shirt was :
I wore a lavender t-shirt that had a retro sort of Magic Kingdom design. I’d had a blast designing these t-shirts, and had made several for the three of us on this trip.
See?
We’ve worn them since, but a couple of the transfers, especially those I used on the white t-shirts, for some reason, have really started to peel and flake off, so that the design is nearly unrecognizable. Perhaps totally unrecognizable.
I distinctly recall one morning in early summer when Bunny’s GrandDad came downstairs ready to tackle the ever-growing lawn, dressed in, of all things, Nana’s Snow White shirt!
It had once looked like this...
Tee hee. Very manly, there, Dad.

When confronted with the truth about the girly shirt, he protested that he couldn’t tell what the design was supposed to be. He was just looking for an old shirt to mow the grass in. He SAID…. I strongly suspect, though, that Papa has a secret crush on Snow White, but you didn't hear it from
me.
So there we were there at opening, wearing out designer DisShirts, but we were not by any means among the first to enter. This was not entirely our own fault. As we attempted to pass through the turnstiles, you’ll never guess what happened. Our Keys to the Kingdom failed to work.
“They must be demagnetized!” the CM proclaimed.
“Oh, really?” I responded quickly, beating him to the punch, “That’s very odd because we have taken great pains to keep them far away from our cell phones, and our credit cards. We certainly know THAT is a no-no! How do you suppose this happened? This is the second time, too!”
The CM shrugged and once again we had to wait while the issue was taken care of, and once again, we were told that we would have to have our resort’s front desk re-issue the tickets. I just sighed wearily, nodded, and proceeded through the turnstiles, at which point, we ran like the wind toward Dumbo.
Of course, we had already been on Dumbo, but given that we were traveling with a five year old, Dumbo had to be visited on each trip to the Magic Kingdom. Luckily, we got there early, and the line was minimal. So we rode again.
That morning, we primarily did the “must-do” repeats in Fantasyland when one is touring with a five year old including The Many Adventures of Winnie Pooh, and Peter Pan. Again.
Then we drifted off toward Adventureland, where we rode the Magic Carpets of Aladdin, and Bunny enjoyed a refreshing shower of camel spit (water) straight from the mouth of the naughty camel that is part of this particular ride. While Bunny dodged dromedary drool, Nana shopped for a hat for BunnysGrandDad, who spends a lot of time outdoors mowing the grass. No, I mean, a really, really lot of time mowing the grass. So he could really use Adventureland jungle-type hat to coordinate nicely with his Snow White shirt in his ongoing and tireless efforts to keep the grass suitably short.
As we waited and Nana shopped, Bunny investigated a future in the music business...
(You'll note that Bunny is being backed up by her boy, Bambi, on the bongos.)
Before long though, I was hurrying us along for our ADR at the Crystal Palace. Although we had ADR’s, we still had to wait a few minutes. We had the earliest available lunch reservation, and we could see people inside still eating breakfast, but no one was being admitted for lunch yet.
Bunny wasted no time introducing me, her Nana, and Bambi to everyone seated within shouting range as we waited. Fortunately, it was not a long wait, and within minutes we were being directed to our table.
We barely had time to find our seats, when our wonderful waitress, Sami, welcomed us and told us about the buffet and the characters. She hadn’t even finished her spiel, before Tigger came bouncing over, looking almost as excited as Bunny, and, seeing a promising young protégé, offered to give her bouncing lessons.
At least I think that’s what he was pantomiming. He was either offering bouncing lessons or a cup of really good coffee, which, as we all know, cannot be found anywhere on Disney property, so it must have been the bouncing lessons.
Tigger was accompanied by one of the very finest CM’s in all of WDW. She welcomed us, and as we began chatting, she sat down at our table with us, and announced to Tigger, “This is my family, Tigger, see, these are my sisters, and we came all the way from…(where am I from again?), oh yes, Illinois, just to see you!”
She was a hoot, and the three of us just loved her!
We ate, we laughed, we smiled for the camera, we ate some more, we obtained “odergraphs”, and Bunny composed (or plagiarized, I’m not sure) and recited a poem for her pal, Pooh. It went a little something like this:
“Roses are red, violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet,
And Pooh Bear is, too.”
I’m not sure what possessed her to wax poetic at Pooh’s appearance, but evidently, it was honey to Pooh’s ears. He ate it up, and wrote in her odergraph book, “Thanks for the Poem, Bunny!”
Overall, we experienced terrific character interaction at the Crystal Palace. We got to see all the characters at least twice, and I think Eeyore kept coming over to our table because Nana told him she was her all-time favorite. He’d come over and lay his head on Nana’s shoulder.
The characters were even more memorable than the food, but the food was pretty good! I especially enjoyed a chicken and mushroom dish that I don’t recall the name of, but there were several pretty darned tasty items.
After lunch, we headed back to Adventureland to purchase the grass-mowin’ hat Nana had been looking at earlier when I hurried her out of the shop, and in the general direction of lunch and Hundred Acre Wood friends.
Bunny’s GrandDad, whom she calls “Papa”, likes to call his the forested back portion of his 5 acre spread in the country “The .100 acre wood”.
Keep in mind this is also the man who will, at the slightest urging from Bunny, “talk to Piglet” or “talk to Pooh”, which of course, really means, talk FOR those characters. And Papa does. For hours on end, and he remains in character, reminding Bunny, as Piglet, that he is just “a very small animal”, and as Pooh, complaining of a rumbly in his tumbly (we have discovered that homemade chocolate chip cookies work nearly as well as honey for eliminating this malady).
And in the fall, when they are plentiful, Papa is always reminding Bunny, “You never can tell with bees” in his best Pooh-like voice. And when the skies turn dark and a thunderstorm is on the horizon, he has been known to sing, “I’m just a little black rain cloud, hovering over the honey tree…” Although Bunny often attempts to banish him to the basement when he sings.
Sometimes, when Papa sings or otherwise refuses (uncharacteristically) to cater to her every whim, Bunny later turns traitor on him. Once when Nana asked her, “Where’s Papa?” She responded very matter-of-factly, “He’s in the living room watching too much TV”.
Yet, this same Papa balks when we try to convince him to come to the World. I can’t help but think he would have a blast with Bunny. And I’ll just bet he’d get a kick out of meeting the Hundred Acre Wood crew, too. So far, I haven’t been successful at getting a commitment out of him for our trip next January. But there’s still time.
After lunch and hat shopping, we returned to POR for our required afternoon rest.
Coming up next: a brief nap, a very cold and lengthy swim, and dinner with the cousins….