jsmla
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Mar 19, 2001
- Messages
- 4,498
Dear Fairy Godmother,
The Princess has another favor to ask. Could you please wave your wand and magically transport us to Disneyworld? You see, our carriage is slow and we can't afford to fly upon one of the great silver winged horses of Southwest. I am sorely afraid that my Prince will turn into an ogre if he misses the Capital One Bowl, a gallant match of strength, gallantry and skill.
Hopefully,
Cinderella
The Second Honeymooners:
Scott (49, looks 10 years younger dang him): Thinks Disney is strictly for kids. Would rather be skiing, riding his horse or going to the dentist. Loves his home town. The town of the (for the next few hours anyway) the greatest college football team in the nation. Had the grave misfortune to fall in love with and marry:
Me (44, looks, well to be honest, looks 44): True Disney nut. Hatching secret plans to move to Orlando when the kids fly the coop. (Don't worry too much, Scott, your son has just changed his major, AGAIN.)
Drive Day(s)
We were supposed to leave bright and early on New Years Day but now Scott finds he can work only a 1/2 day New Year's Eve. He'd like to get away early. Yay! Whoopee! Hooray! Scott just can't wait to get to Disney! Zippedy Doo Dah! Wait a minute. Scott can't wait to get to Disney? Scott? Disney? Something's rotten in the city of Baton Rouge.
It's football. I should have known. LSU is playing in some bowl game New Year's Day. In Orlando of all places. How's that for irony? Scott doesn't want to actually go to the game. He wants to watch it on TV. The way he figures it we can pull an all-nighter and spend our Saturday afternoon watching the game in the hotel instead of driving. The way I figure it we can leave in the morning (when the NYE celebrants are all safely sleeping it off) and he can listen to the game on the radio. I have no intention of being on the roads late at night on a New Year's Eve. I've forbidden the kids to go out and am certainly not going to be out there myself with all those drunks and crazies.
Let the negotiations begin. He wants to drive straight through. I want to leave in the morning. He proffers up Lake City. I counter with Pensacola. We finally agree to Tallahassee. We should get in around 8:00. I can live with that.
Scott makes it home on time and we're off after a teary farwell from Lizzie and a suspiciously cheerful one from Sam. We set a new family record by only returning home once for stuff we'd forgotten. The first leg of our journey is pretty hum-drum. I drive while Scott fiddles with the radio, trying to catch some bowl game broadcast. Okay by me. I've borrowed DD's DiscMan and can listen to my own stuff. This is way cool because every member of my family hates my taste in music. Back in the day I could stop the kids mid-fight in one second flat by cranking up Memories or Music of the Night. With Liz's nifty little DiscMan I can listen to Les Miserables while Scott fusses non-stop with the radio trying to keep up with the game on ever changing stations. Brilliant! The only rough bit is passing through Pensacola. Lots of construction and the bridge over the bay is patched up with this flimsy feeling steel mesh. No, not patched up, whole sections of the bridge are made entirely out of this stuff. Very scarey. Wakes me right up. Who needs the Tower of Terror when you've got the Pensacola Bay Bridge? We finally fetch up around 8:30 at the Hampton Inn at the Thomasville Road exit (203) in Tallahassee. I would have no problem recommending this motel to anyone. For one thing it's brand spanking new. It was the freshest feeling hotel we stayed in the entire trip. Another plus is the complimentary breakfast. It's not just doughnuts and coffee here. We had eggs, sausage, waffles, yoghurt, juice and all sorts of fruit and bakery stuff. What with the comfy beds, the free morning paper, calls to the kids to make sure they were okay and the large breakfast we were just a tad late getting off. Looks like Scott might miss the pre-game.
I drive, much too slowly apparently, as far as Ocala. It's getting close to kick-off and Scott just can't stand it anymore so he takes over. Fine with me. I don't need to drive. I have my blankie and my new best friend, Mr. DiscMan. I don't need anybody. This is how we managed our two hour detour.
I've driven to WDW about, oh, 147 times. Scott never drives. He usually flies. Even when he is in the car I drive. I don't like it that way, that's just the way it is. I know the roads in and around Disneyworld better than most of my own hometown. Scott probably hasn't driven there in 5 years or more. You'd think we'd realize that I should probably be the one to get us there, but we don't. We'd rather miss our exit and drive round aimlessly through central Florida for an hour or more. We passed through so many toll booths the State of Florida is considering erecting a sign along one particular stretch of the turnpike to thank us for our enthusiastic financial support.
So, The Best Second Honeymoon Ever begins, much like the first, with an argument.
Let's roll back the years. It's 1980 and we've been married for 19 hours. We're in our condo in Breckenridge, Colorado. We're in the condo because I refuse to leave it. I refuse to leave it because (can you believe this?) there's SNOW outside. I'm crying.
Scott: "What's wrong now?"
Me: "You don't love me. In fact you hate me, admit it!"
Scott: "What on earth are you talking about? I just MARRIED you for ******'* sake!"
Me: (Sobbing hysterically) "You brought me up here to die in this frozen ****hole. You probably took out a huge insurance policy on me and brought me out here to die!"
Scott: "You wanted to come here. We changed our wedding date so that we could come here. You made the reservations. You thought it would be romantic"
Me: "You should have known I couldn't ski. If you really loved me you would have known I hated the snow!"
Scott: "You're from Jeanarette, Louisiana. You've never even seen snow. YOU didn't even realize you'd hate it. How was I supposed to know?"
Me: "Emily and Dan went to Aruba on their honeymoon. She got a tan in February"
Scott: "Look, this trip's costing me a boatload. I'm going skiing."
Me: (Sobbing AND screaming) "I want a divorce!"
This, friends, is what comes of marrying a spoiled nineteen year old daddy's girl.
Fast foward. Fast forward through 25 years of marriage, jobs, in-laws and children. It's 2005 and we're in the car in Where-the-Heck, Florida. We're in the car because we're lost. We're lost because I fell asleep and we missed our exit. The game is on. Scott is almost crying.
Scott: "You hate me, don't you?"
Me: "Huh?"
Scott: "You made me miss the exit on purpose. You WANT me to miss the game!"
Me: "You're nuts, you know that?"
Scott: "I mean it, you hate football. You're jealous, that's what it is!"
Me: "Jealous? Jealous of what?"
Scott: "You're jealous that I have something that I love. It's just killing you inside."
Me: "You just missed the exit again."
This, gentle reader, is what come of marrying a raving lunatic.
Jennifer
The Princess has another favor to ask. Could you please wave your wand and magically transport us to Disneyworld? You see, our carriage is slow and we can't afford to fly upon one of the great silver winged horses of Southwest. I am sorely afraid that my Prince will turn into an ogre if he misses the Capital One Bowl, a gallant match of strength, gallantry and skill.
Hopefully,
Cinderella
The Second Honeymooners:
Scott (49, looks 10 years younger dang him): Thinks Disney is strictly for kids. Would rather be skiing, riding his horse or going to the dentist. Loves his home town. The town of the (for the next few hours anyway) the greatest college football team in the nation. Had the grave misfortune to fall in love with and marry:
Me (44, looks, well to be honest, looks 44): True Disney nut. Hatching secret plans to move to Orlando when the kids fly the coop. (Don't worry too much, Scott, your son has just changed his major, AGAIN.)
Drive Day(s)
We were supposed to leave bright and early on New Years Day but now Scott finds he can work only a 1/2 day New Year's Eve. He'd like to get away early. Yay! Whoopee! Hooray! Scott just can't wait to get to Disney! Zippedy Doo Dah! Wait a minute. Scott can't wait to get to Disney? Scott? Disney? Something's rotten in the city of Baton Rouge.
It's football. I should have known. LSU is playing in some bowl game New Year's Day. In Orlando of all places. How's that for irony? Scott doesn't want to actually go to the game. He wants to watch it on TV. The way he figures it we can pull an all-nighter and spend our Saturday afternoon watching the game in the hotel instead of driving. The way I figure it we can leave in the morning (when the NYE celebrants are all safely sleeping it off) and he can listen to the game on the radio. I have no intention of being on the roads late at night on a New Year's Eve. I've forbidden the kids to go out and am certainly not going to be out there myself with all those drunks and crazies.
Let the negotiations begin. He wants to drive straight through. I want to leave in the morning. He proffers up Lake City. I counter with Pensacola. We finally agree to Tallahassee. We should get in around 8:00. I can live with that.
Scott makes it home on time and we're off after a teary farwell from Lizzie and a suspiciously cheerful one from Sam. We set a new family record by only returning home once for stuff we'd forgotten. The first leg of our journey is pretty hum-drum. I drive while Scott fiddles with the radio, trying to catch some bowl game broadcast. Okay by me. I've borrowed DD's DiscMan and can listen to my own stuff. This is way cool because every member of my family hates my taste in music. Back in the day I could stop the kids mid-fight in one second flat by cranking up Memories or Music of the Night. With Liz's nifty little DiscMan I can listen to Les Miserables while Scott fusses non-stop with the radio trying to keep up with the game on ever changing stations. Brilliant! The only rough bit is passing through Pensacola. Lots of construction and the bridge over the bay is patched up with this flimsy feeling steel mesh. No, not patched up, whole sections of the bridge are made entirely out of this stuff. Very scarey. Wakes me right up. Who needs the Tower of Terror when you've got the Pensacola Bay Bridge? We finally fetch up around 8:30 at the Hampton Inn at the Thomasville Road exit (203) in Tallahassee. I would have no problem recommending this motel to anyone. For one thing it's brand spanking new. It was the freshest feeling hotel we stayed in the entire trip. Another plus is the complimentary breakfast. It's not just doughnuts and coffee here. We had eggs, sausage, waffles, yoghurt, juice and all sorts of fruit and bakery stuff. What with the comfy beds, the free morning paper, calls to the kids to make sure they were okay and the large breakfast we were just a tad late getting off. Looks like Scott might miss the pre-game.
I drive, much too slowly apparently, as far as Ocala. It's getting close to kick-off and Scott just can't stand it anymore so he takes over. Fine with me. I don't need to drive. I have my blankie and my new best friend, Mr. DiscMan. I don't need anybody. This is how we managed our two hour detour.
I've driven to WDW about, oh, 147 times. Scott never drives. He usually flies. Even when he is in the car I drive. I don't like it that way, that's just the way it is. I know the roads in and around Disneyworld better than most of my own hometown. Scott probably hasn't driven there in 5 years or more. You'd think we'd realize that I should probably be the one to get us there, but we don't. We'd rather miss our exit and drive round aimlessly through central Florida for an hour or more. We passed through so many toll booths the State of Florida is considering erecting a sign along one particular stretch of the turnpike to thank us for our enthusiastic financial support.
So, The Best Second Honeymoon Ever begins, much like the first, with an argument.
Let's roll back the years. It's 1980 and we've been married for 19 hours. We're in our condo in Breckenridge, Colorado. We're in the condo because I refuse to leave it. I refuse to leave it because (can you believe this?) there's SNOW outside. I'm crying.
Scott: "What's wrong now?"
Me: "You don't love me. In fact you hate me, admit it!"
Scott: "What on earth are you talking about? I just MARRIED you for ******'* sake!"
Me: (Sobbing hysterically) "You brought me up here to die in this frozen ****hole. You probably took out a huge insurance policy on me and brought me out here to die!"
Scott: "You wanted to come here. We changed our wedding date so that we could come here. You made the reservations. You thought it would be romantic"
Me: "You should have known I couldn't ski. If you really loved me you would have known I hated the snow!"
Scott: "You're from Jeanarette, Louisiana. You've never even seen snow. YOU didn't even realize you'd hate it. How was I supposed to know?"
Me: "Emily and Dan went to Aruba on their honeymoon. She got a tan in February"
Scott: "Look, this trip's costing me a boatload. I'm going skiing."
Me: (Sobbing AND screaming) "I want a divorce!"
This, friends, is what comes of marrying a spoiled nineteen year old daddy's girl.
Fast foward. Fast forward through 25 years of marriage, jobs, in-laws and children. It's 2005 and we're in the car in Where-the-Heck, Florida. We're in the car because we're lost. We're lost because I fell asleep and we missed our exit. The game is on. Scott is almost crying.
Scott: "You hate me, don't you?"
Me: "Huh?"
Scott: "You made me miss the exit on purpose. You WANT me to miss the game!"
Me: "You're nuts, you know that?"
Scott: "I mean it, you hate football. You're jealous, that's what it is!"
Me: "Jealous? Jealous of what?"
Scott: "You're jealous that I have something that I love. It's just killing you inside."
Me: "You just missed the exit again."
This, gentle reader, is what come of marrying a raving lunatic.
Jennifer
