I feel I should begin this chapter with a warning of sorts. A heads up. A disclaimer. But enough with the phrases that mean almost the same thing. Lets cut to the chase.
This one is long.
Longer than the stand by line for Soarin at four p.m. on any given day during Christmas week. Longer than the line for the POR bus after Epicot's Not So Much Extra Magic Hour. Longer than the list of Jasmine's middle age male fans.
It's that long.
So you might wanna grab yourself a lil sumpm sumpm before you dive in. Like a seat. Or a tub of popcorn with extra butter. A value size vat of hairy pickled pig lips. Or even a bagel if youre into that sort of thing.
Cause this might take a while.
Let me start by setting the scene for you.
Disneyworld. Typhoon Lagoon. The Wave pool. Me and the kids.
Well, me and the girl.
We were on our own because the boy had left us far behind and was getting a workout trying to run through the water like Forest Gump. Wasnt workin out so well for him, by the way. But thats neither here nor there at this point.
Dad on the shore in the lounge chair totally oblivious to his surroundings.
Huge wave coming.
Running for our lives.
Okay, again, we werent actually running. Because you cant do that in the water unless youre Denise Austin. Or Gilad. Or Billy Blanks. Or Rocky.
Thatd be the Rocky from Rocky I, not to be confused with the Rocky from Rocky XVI, which is in fact coming to a theater near you. Before long. Im sure of it. Check your local listings. Or you know, call the Movie Phone.
But back to what I was saying. I cant run very well in water cause Im not any of those people.
Or am I?
Anyway, the wave was coming fast and we were out too far. But just so you know, we weren't out as far as five feet. We werent even out as far as four feet. But we were out far enough that I was out of my wave pool comfort zone. I don't like that feeling when Im in the water with my kids so I had the girl slung over my hip while I semi ran, semi high stepped it, trying my best to make it back up to two feet before the wave did.
We finally make it up front and turn around. We laugh at all the other suckers getting wiped out as we jump over the wave and then head off for a snack.
Well, that's how it was supposed to go at least.
Only it didn't.
Because the girl and I were two of the suckers that got wiped out.
The wave reached us much faster than I expected. I had my eye on the boy and saw that he was way ahead of us. He was really close to the faux shore so I knew he'd be okay.
Then I turned around to look for the wave.
It was already there.
I had just enough time to brace myself and tell the girl to hold on to me and hold her breath before it hit. And when it hit, it hit hard. Within seconds we were swirling underwater. I couldn't see anything but white foam, which totally freaked me out. Because I couldnt see my daughter. I couldnt see her face. I could feel her so I knew I still had her but still. I wanted desperately to see her.
There were probably ten different thoughts that ran through my head simultaneously at that point. I won't go into what I was thinking but I will tell you that not one of those thoughts was a happy thought. I knew she could hold her breath underwater probably better than I could. I just wasn't sure how long she could hold it. Or how long she would need to hold it. The pressure from the wave finally broke up and I was able to break through the surface. The whole episode probably lasted no more than about ten seconds, which doesn't seem all that long really. But while it was happening, it seemed like forever and a day.
As we shoot up out of the water, I look over at the girl and check her over. She's fine, I tell myself. Thank you Jesus, I tell Him. Then I take a deep breath and try to calm my mind and bring my heart rate down from the 500 bpm range.
Needless to say, she didnt think it was cool and didnt want to do it again.
That made two of us.
I scan the water feverishly for the boy and spot him immediately. He was on all fours crawling up to the lounge chairs. He looks back in our direction with his eyebrows furrowed. At first glance I can tell he's not happy. I scramble back up front as fast as I can with the girl firmly latched onto my hip. We meet up with the boy and I assess the situation.
Im relieved to find out he didnt get wiped out. But he did get a noseful of water and he ain't happy about it.
We scan the crowd for my husband. Their father. I finally spot him and we drag our battle weary bodies over to his lounge chair.
The three of us stand in front of him dripping wet.
Our five year old child still has her arms and legs wrapped around my body in a death grip. She has firmly latched her ankles together in a locked and loaded posture. The child is whimpering and wiping snot on my bare shoulder. The boy is standing beside me calling the wave stupid and trying to blow the water out of his nose without Kleenex. Every hair on his head is standing straight up. He has a surfers mohawk and his eyes are red from the chlorine. As I stand there, I can barely see daylight through the mass of long, wet, wavy hair that is still hanging down in my face from the wave incident. My bathing suit is still askew and my back is literally about to break under the strain of carrying around a five year old child whose legs are almost as long as mine.
We are all traumatized and shivering.
My husband, my dear, sweet husband rolls over. The man stretches, yawns and rubs his eyes. Then he puts his hand up in front of his face as if to block the sun (or the sight of us), squints his eyes and says the following.
To me.
Oh,
hey. Whereve yall been? You should've seen it, La. You shouldve seen how high that water got up here. It came all the way up under my lounge chair, touched my back and woke me up. Can you believe it woke me up? Im pretty ticked off about it because I was really snoozing.
Is that so? I ask.
I pry the girl off me and set her down.
I then push the hair back away from my eyes, square my shoulders, and punch him dead in the face.
Thrice. In rapid succession.
For good measure.
Once he recovers, we calmly make our way out front to the lockers to retrieve our gear.
We've had enough water park for one day.
We're not feeling the wave pool love anymore. Plus 3/4 of us just want to sit down and recover from the incident. And 1/4 of us just wants an icepack.
Okay you know Im kidding. I didnt really beat my husband up. But I did give it some serious thought.
Or did I?
Once we're out front, the girl and I duck into the bathroom to get changed while the boys throw a shirt on at the locker. Guys are lucky like that. They can get dressed anywhere. Girls, not so much. Unless you're Paris Spears.
We make our way to the AKL bus stop and walk up at just the right time. We literally step onto the bus without breaking our stride. Amazingly, no one asked the bus driver to wait for the rest of their party who still happened to be floating around the lazy river with all the other lazy people. We went straight back to the AKL instead of stopping at DTD first. The bus ride was unbelievably short this time compared to the earlier trek to get there.
We'll take the bright spots wherever we can find them.
As we hop out at the Club Med bus depot and make our way up the small hill to the resort, DH suggests we cut through the door that leads to the Zawadi Marketplace instead of walking all the way around to the front doors.
From that point on, that was our entry point whenever we came back from the bus depot.
Strange how strategically placed that door was. It all but said "Hey. Pssst. Over here. Dont bother walking all the way around to the front. You dont wanna do that. Youre tired and it's a really long walk around there. Cut through here. And while youre at it, buy something.
Amazingly, even Disney's bus stops have dump shops.
Unfortunately and predictably, I succumbed to the Disney marketing strategy. I couldnt just cut through. I had to linger and buy a lil sumpm sumpm. Or two. Or three. Or four. Or five. Actually, they were all necessities so dont call me weak. Yet.
That comes after our visit to Mouse Gear.
Anywho, I had to find another lanyard for the boy's Pal Mickey from last year since he lost the one that came with it. After conferring with a couple of CMs and realizing they would not, in fact, just give me a new Pal Mickey for the heck of it, I found a perfect royal blue lanyard for him, grabbed some autograph books and a couple of foot long pens with Mickey ears on the end and headed out front.
Once we were in the lobby, we found there was a set of stairs off to the left. They looked almost hidden but DH spotted them and thus was born our routine. From that point on, every time we came back from the parks, we'd cut through the dump shop, hang a left, walk up just one flight of stairs (since the lobby is on the third level) and make our way to the room.
We walked that path so many times that week I could do it in my sleep.
Although I wouldn't want to because its really dark in there and those darn columns tend to get in your way when you least expect it.
As we walked to our room that first day, we noticed there was quite a commotion going on in the lobby. Make that a very loud commotion. There was a group of African singers and dancers putting on a show in front of the firepit.
We all stopped to watch the action for a bit.
They were really good and reminded me of that group that used to sing with Paul Simon years ago. Dont ask me the group's name because I dont know. I only know about it because I saw them on Johnny Carson performing with him one night many moons ago. And back in those days, I was more into the Artist Formerly Known as Dense and a long haired rocker who wore acid washed jeans and sang about a little runaway than I was Paul Simon.
I dont mean to be coy, Roy. Just listen to me.
Its not like I hate him or think his grandfather's a jerk or anything. I actually like a couple of his songs, but other than that, I've just never really been that big of a fan.
Of Paul Simon.
Or as I call him, Al.
Let the flames begin.
Long story short: I dont remember the African groups name. The one that used to sing with Al. But I do remember that they were very, very good. They had beautiful voices and their harmony was dead on perfect. I could watch them for hours.
Just like this group.
The boys had their fill after just a few minutes and decided to head to the room but the girl and I lingered a little longer.
We stood on the overlook near the bridge. Over troubled water.
Or the lobby at least.
I picked her up and held her so she could get a good view as the group pulled guests up one by one to dance with them on the shiny dark hardwood floor. If we werent one level above them, I have no doubt my daughter would have run up to dance even without an invitation. She loves music of any kind and she also loves to dance. I wonder where she gets that from. Anyway, we really enjoyed the performance and thought it was a nice little surprise for our first day.
Have I mentioned that I love that resort?
Once I finally put the girl down, she stomp danced and hummed the music, mimicking it perfectly, all the way down the winding hall to the room.
Im sure the neighbors enjoyed the encore.
The girl and I throw the door to the room open only to find the boys sitting on the balcony elbow deep in a couple bags of Cheetos.
Busted.
They're rebels. Without a clue. Much like my friend James Dean.
I remind them were not supposed to have food out there and tell them security will be busting through the door any minute to haul us all away to the Reedy Creek Penn where all the other Disney rule breakers go. Right after the little dudes in security finish carefully scouring last night's videotape for any previously, ahem, unseen evidence, that is.
We get rid of the contraband and decide to relax and take in the wildlife for awhile.
As we sit around on our balcony and talk, we extol the virtues of Disneyworld and AKL. Because nothing beats the feeling of arrival day. And especially a free upgrade on arrival day. As I recall, there were several emphatic declarations of love being thrown around at the time.
Declarations of love for Disney and AKL being thrown around. Not for each other. That doesn't come into play until later. And I'll give you fair warning before I bring the sap.
I think you know the next line.
Anyway, after we took turns declaring our love for all things Disney and trying to identify the animals that were out and about on our (non) private savannah, we checked our watches.
And it was late in the evening.
With all the music seeping through.
But really, without the music seeping through. Cause the stomp dancing singers had already stomp danced their way out the door and off to meet Julio down by the schoolyard.
What Im saying is it was crunch time.
We had an ADR for Tony's Town Square at the MK for that night.
It would be our first time to try Tonys. One of the reasons I booked Tonys (other than the fact that Chef Mickeys and the Crystal Palace and Ohana were all already booked for that night) was because after doing lots of careful research, I discovered Tonys had a patio out front.
Thats right. A patio. Who knew?
Uh, yeah. That'd be me. I knew.
Anyway, I also discovered that if you were fortunate enough to be able to score a patio table and time it right, that it was the perfect place to watch the parades roll by.
Segue.
I love Spectromagic. Absolutely love it. My husband can take it or leave it. He thinks they could add so much more to it by throwing a few beads and some moon pies.
But thats another story for another place and time.
Anywho, hes not particularly fond of fighting the crowds for a piece of treasured curbside real estate when he knows hes not in for any doubloons so I was hoping we would be able to score a table at Tonys. On the patio. Because I thought he would really enjoy it. And I already knew the kids and I would.
How could we not? It was a virtual triple whammy. A trifecta of sorts.
The Magic Kingdom, Spectro, and food.
You can't ask for any better than that. Well, technically I guess you could but we wont go into that now.
Because if we didnt get a move on, we were gonna be late for our ADR and all chances of us scoring a good table would be gone like a freight train, gone like yesterday.
So I switched it up some. Sue me. Because yes, I actually
do know a good lawyer.
We all take a turn in the shower and get dressed, all the while being mindful of the Balcony Warning of Wisdom. Once we were ready, we grabbed the backpack, the camera, the camcorder, Punk Mickey, and hit the door.
Thats right. Its the mouse formerly known as Pal Mickey.
You see, my husband likes to mess with the kids' heads occasionally. Like telling them two weeks before we leave for our trip that Disneyworld called and said they would be closed and that we shouldn't bother coming. Or repeatedly calling them by the name of an annoying relative until they actually start answering to it. Or renaming their toys.
So as we head out the door to the Magic Kingdom, my husband renames the mouse.
DH: Hey boy, dont forget Punk Mickey.
The boy: Dad, its Pal Mickey.
DH: Thats what I said, boy. Punk Mickey.
The girl: Daaaaaady...
Three of us laugh while the fourth manages a look of indignation.
The boy grabs the mouse and the kids giggle all the way down the hall. They take turns pushing Punk Mickeys belly and laughing at the same old hot dog jokes as last year.
We head out to the bus stop thats almost as big as P Diddy's ego and have a seat. I checked my watch and started to get nervous.
Because time was slip sliding away.
I was curious how long it would actually take us to get from AKL to the far reaches of the MK so once we got on the bus, I decided to time our trip. From the time we got rolling to the time we rolled up at the MK was fifteen minutes. It was no monorail ride over from the Contemporary, but still, it wasnt half bad.
We hop off and make our way up the winding mauve colored walkway for our first glimpse of the Magic Kingdom.
Have I mentioned that I love this place?
We get our bags checked, proudly slide our cards through the card reader for the first time and then push our way through the sideways spider. As per our routine, after our cards shoot out on the other side one by one, we hand them all back to DH for safekeeping.
Cause hes the man.
Just ask him. He'll tell ya.
We then make our way through the tunnel. Normally our first stop would be off to the left to
rent a stroller but since we were only going to have enough time to eat dinner and then catch Wishes, we decide not to get a stroller for the night. We were actually going to make the kids walk. Gasp. It was a first for us.
As we head through the tunnel, I grab a guide map just out of habit. Turns out, I wouldnt need it. In fact, we would hardly refer to a map at all on this trip in any of the parks.
Because we already knew where all the family bathrooms were. And where all of the uncrowded bathrooms were. Were cool like that.
We are running just a tad behind (thats the overdue part) as we officially enter the Magic Kingdom and make a beeline over to Tonys Town Square.
My husband has a thing for crowds. Hes not a big fan.
So as we open the door to the restaurant and look around, he is completely flabbergasted. Shocked. Caught off guard. And three other phrases that all mean the same thing. He is taken aback because everywhere our eyes rest, there is a person. Not just one person. Oodles of persons.
They are all standing around looking haggard and hungry. And they are all waiting on the same thing were about to be waiting on. A table at Tonys.
As we scan the room, we notice people sprawled out in the middle of the floor with their arms resting over their eyes. If I didnt know any better, I'd think these people were on a ten hour layover at LaGuardia. Or at least Hartsfield. They looked that tired. And that ticked off.
Adults were parked in front of the TV watching the Lady and the Britney right along with the kids. I heard children complaining to their parents that if they had to wait one more minute, their insides were literally going to cave in. And then all would be lost.
DH was not pleased.
Because the only thing he likes less than being in a big crowd is having to wait in a big crowd. After the big crowd had already checked in before us.
Great. This was gonna go just super. I could tell already.
We get in line and finally make it up front. We give them our last name and I tell the girl that wed like to have a patio table if at all possible. She gives me the spiel about not being able to guarantee anything. Yeah, yeah, I got it, chick.
I tell her I understand the protocol because Im no rookie and she tells us were free to mill around and that they'll call our name when the table is ready.
Fast forward to one hour later.
The room has just about cleared out except for us and a few other very hungry stragglers.
We could smell the food wafting in from the dining room and needless to say, everyone in our family was ravenous and grumpy by this point. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my son chewing on the chair with a wild look in his eyes and my husband gnawing on his leg. The other leg.
His other leg.
Not the boys. Cause that would be weird. And also illegal I think.
What Im saying is they were really hungry.
And really grumpy.
All night long we had heard families being beckoned one by one to their table in that cool way they only do at Disneyworld. We kept waiting for someone to stand in the middle of the crowd and yell "Attentione, Attentione! (Spell check that one, NM) We now have a lovely table waiting for the LaLa family."
Apparently our lovely table wasnt into waiting any more than we were.
Fast forward to four minutes later.
The kids have had all they can take.
The boy has already finished his first course of chair soup and has begun to eyeball the chair rail. Speaking of eyes, DH's are about to pop out of his head. He is on the brink of saying to heck with it. He threatens me with Casey's so I get up and take matters into my own hands.
I go have a little chat with the chick up front. Turns out our lovely table became available right as I was asking about it. Imagine that. I watched our last name roll up on the screen and I immediately became giddy.
No hot dogs for us, baby. Mama wants a steak.
I tell the guy to skip the Attentione crap and get us to our lovely table pronto. Then I ask if our lovely table happens to be out on the lovely patio by any lovely chance.
I knew I stood little chance of getting what I wanted because it was insanely crowded. And at this point, any one of us would've taken a plate of spaghetti set up on a table out back. After the dogs had already had first shot at it.
But he checked his slip of paper and replied, "Yes maam. Youre out front on the patio. Youre lucky. You timed it perfectly and youre going to get to see Spectromagic roll by from out there. The view's amazing."
SCORE!
Two times in one day, baby.
I was literally giddy with excitement. I couldnt help it. All that planning and hoping and waiting and it actually worked out the way I wanted it to in the end. That doesnt normally happen for me. I was beyond happy. I actually looked back at my husband and giggled as I told him we scored the patio table. I giggled like a school girl and then I raised the roof. Just a little. I halfway raised the roof.
I think I goobed the guy out.
Not my guy.
And even if I did goob him out, it doesnt matter cause its too late for him now anyway. He had his chance to kick me to the curb eleven years and three months ago. Now hes stuck with me. Till death do we part and all that. No, Im talking about the other guy. The CM. I could tell by the look in his eyes that my happiness was goobing him out. Or frightening him. One or the other.
Maybe a little of both.
He deposited us at our lovely patio table and made himself scarcer than Michael Richards's agent. In other words, we never saw him again. Which was fine by me. He kinda goobed me out and scared me all at the same time.
We check out our view (which was
TOTALLY AWESOME by the way) and order our food.
Both DH and I ordered a steak and salad with some really good, creamy ranch dressing on it. I order Ranch because I refuse to eat bleu cheese dressing. I could up Chappie's puke story tally by sharing the hows and whys of that statement but Im not inclined to at the moment.
Besides, some boy might be scarfing down a bagel at this very minute. Its been known to happen.
Anyway, it was around this time that we were in the middle of the nationwide spinach Ecoli scare so when they brought out my salad, I pointed to a suspicious looking leaf sticking up out of the overabundance of really thick and creamy Ranch dressing.
I then proceeded to have this exchange for the first of many times on our trip.
Me: Is that spinach in my salad?
Server: No maam. Its arugula.
Me: Are you sure? Cause it looks like spinach to me. And I dont want Ecoli.
Server: Yes maam, its perfectly fine. Its arugula.
Me: Okay, but only if youre sure.
I would have this conversation with almost every server I encountered that dare serve me anything that vaguely looked like spinach. I wasnt playing around. I wasnt into getting Ecoli at Disneyworld.
Cause that would really stink.
Literally. And figuratively.
The kids ordered pasta and chicken noodle soup as their appetizer. I have to say I was slightly disappointed in the food at Tonys. It definitely wasnt the worst meal wed had at Disney but it was also a far cry from the best meal wed had at Disney. The steaks were pretty bland by themselves and if it werent for the gorgonzola butter on top, it wouldve been a thumbs down for me. As it was, that stuff that tasted like it had five thousand fat grams in one teaspoon made all the difference in the world. Go figure. But it was wonderful and gave the steak a really good flavor.
Mmm. Gorgonzola butter. Not thats some good stuff right there.
The entire time we were eating our meal, we noticed the crowd build up just on the other side of the patio. We watched all the peeps jockeying for position as we sat at on our perch and were served food and had our glasses of sweet tea refilled on a whim.
We pointed and laughed at all the poor schmucks that were sitting on the curb as we settled into our seats and ate our steaks with gorgonzola butter.
And then just as we were served our Mascarpone Cheesecake, which was totally and completely out of this world, it started.
I was having some problems with the night setting on my camera, so sorry if these turn out a little blurry.
Mama don't take my Kodachrome away.
Like my friend Nicolemarie, I love the Spectromagic music. It never fails to put a huge, goofy smile on my face. I grin through the entire parade. We try to see it on our first night and have been pretty successful most years. So for that reason alone, the Spectro music means we have arrived. To me. I guess you could call it my Disney bus. It means our vacation has begun.
And it had. On this magic night.
We sit back and take in the parade in all its splendor. As each illuminated float rolls by, the kids stop eating their ice cream sundaes long enough to excitedly yell the name of the characters and point and wave at them. This trip was all about Minnie for our daughter. She still loved the Princesses, but for some reason, she was all about Mickeys main squeeze this go round.
So she lost her mind when she saw Minnie's sparkling float roll by.
We were watching the videotape the other night and I got the biggest kick out of watching her trying her hardest to get Minnies attention. She wiped the ice cream from her mouth and yelled at the top of her little lungs for Minnie. Twice. And then once more for good measure. Then she blew Minnie a huge chocolate covered kiss. I realized for the first time as I watched the camera pan out, that Minnie actually waved back to her and blew her a kiss right back. I didnt catch that the first time.
Must have been sidetracked by the non anthrax laced cheesecake.
Sure, I guess she could have been waving and blowing kisses to some other little girl in our general direction but we'll say it was directed at our girl and leave it at that.
Thats our story and were stickin to it.
We finished up our dessert as the parade rolled by. I was on top of the world. It was an awesome setup, I have to say. Everywhere we looked, we saw twinkling lights, whether it was from the buildings surrounding us on Main Street or from the floats and characters themselves. Best of all, we werent standing up or sitting on the concrete curb. DH turned to me, pulled me close into a squeeze, and told me I did good. He nodded his approval.
The lovely patio table was a hit.
In fact, we had such an awesome setup that lots of other people tried to insinuate themselves in between us and our view. I cant tell you how many people we saw try to climb up onto the patio through a set of steps that was clearly blocked off. Lots of people came wandering out of the main dining room and parked themselves directly in front of our us. And proceeded to enjoy the parade.
For a moment anyway.
But not to worry.
Because one thing all my research on the DIS did not tell me is that Tonys lovely patio has its very own bouncer. Thats right. A bouncer.
And she was a mighty tough one at that.
Her name was Cecilia.
Or was it Mrs. Robinson?
Truth is, I dont recall.
She wasnt young in years but you could tell with one glance that she was as tough as nails. The woman wasnt playing around. She had game and she was bringin it to the table.
The lovely patio table. Which we scored. Have I mentioned that?
Anyway, she stood at attention on our immediate right and if she saw anyone so much as think about standing in front of us or anyone else fortunate enough to be seated outside, she quickly approached them and ran them off. I was amazed at how busy she was. She swatted down potential squatters with amazing speed and accuracy. Some people were courteous and others wanted to argue with her. But she wasnt the type to lose an argument.
We thanked her for her help and ended up talking to her a good bit in her down time. I made the remark that she looked like she had her hands full. I asked her if she usually had a hard time convincing people to take their seat. She looked at me with eyes that had no doubt seen the ugly side of human behavior and informed me that I wouldnt believe some of the things that had happened over the years even if she told me.
I was immediately reminded of my run in with Perma Scowl at the Four Corners of Insanity and I had no doubt she was telling the truth.
So here's to you, Mrs. Robinson.
After the parade ended, we signed our bill and laughed out loud. Really loud. Cause you just gotta love that free dining. We then bid Cecilia Robinson and our lovely table farewell and headed off once again to rub elbows with the common folk in our quest to find a spot for Wishes.
We walk up towards Main Street in our efforts to scope out a spot. It was wall to wall humanity at the cross street, which was my first choice. So we decide to just stand in the middle of Main Street.
For some reason.
DH wasnt sure about my location choice.
"Are you sure we can do this? Are you sure we can just stand in the middle of the street?" he kept asking.
"Of course we can." I tell him.
Then, "What's the matter? Didn't you read ZZUB's trip report, Man?"
That part was just with my eyes.
As the four of us stand there, our daughter decides she wants a Mickey bar. Of course she does. She has just eaten chicken noodle soup and pasta and an ice cream sundae yet now she suddenly wants a Mickey bar.
When we first began our Disney negotiations last year, one of the first things the girl said she wanted to do was to eat a Mickey ice cream bar. She had been talking about it ever since and in that exact moment the realization hit her. She was in the land of the Mickey ice cream bar. It was fireworks time. Which automatically brings to mind snacks. So no matter how full she was, she was bound and determined to take in the chocolate and vanilla joy that is a Mickey ice cream bar.
I can vaguely relate because after all, we are once again in the land of the Elusive Dole Whip. And I feel the girl's pain.
So we turn to DH and between mine and the girls joint feminine wiles, we convince a reluctant man who only wanted to sit and watch some fireworks to get up, fight the crowds, and go on the hunt. He grabs the boy to help him carry the stuff back and they're off.
They were being the hunters and we were being the sit back and waiters.
As we wait for them to come back, I take the time to dig into the backpack and pull out the kids' glow necklaces from last year. Only this time around I had mastered the art of the on/off switch. Because I had taken great pains to practice it in the mirror before we left.
So I turn on the necklace with a little bit of flair and bravado and hand it to the girl. I do the same with the boys and throw it around my neck. We have our own little strobe light thing goin on while we wait for them to come back. All we needed to get the party started right was a lil Tone Loc and a couple of speakers as tall as me.
It didn't take long for the boys to show back up. It didnt take long because they didnt get anything. They came back empty handed.
"Oh
no they
didn't" my daughter says with her eyes. And her head. And her hip.
DH claims he couldnt find an ice cream cart. The girl is upset and begins to cry. She so wanted that Mickey bar. My husband bends down and hugs his daughter. He tells her not to cry and that we'll get her one on the way out. Its better this way because she wont be so full when she gets it. And maybe she'll actually be able to eat both ears instead of just one before it melts into a big pile of vanilla soup. Its for the best, shell see. She nods her head in agreement and dries her eyes. Her brother cracks a joke as if on cue and she busts out into a full laugh. With tears still streaming down her face.
But its all good. Cause we'll get it on the way out. Daddy said so.
As we stand there and wait for the show to start, a guy wearing a firefighter shirt approaches us and tells us that he and his family are leaving the park for the night. They have a double stroller and he tells us if we want it, its ours. We take them up on the offer and thank them profusely.
Every time we come to Disneyworld, we invariably will witness an act that will make our heads spin and leave us wondering what's wrong with humanity. But as this firefighter father proved, the opposite is also true. For every blatantly selfish act that we witness in Disney, there are also lots of random acts of kindness that we witness as well.
And as for me, Id like to believe the latter outnumbers the former.
The kids scramble into the stroller, glad to be able to finally take a load off. We look toward Cinderella's castle and are once again amazed at how pretty it is at night. And no matter how many times I may see it at night, it never fails to leave me in awe as the colors change from purple to green to blue and on and on.
And in that very moment, we hear the music start.
That beautiful, unmistakable music.
Starlight starbright. First star I see tonight.
I wish I may I wish I might
Have this wish I wish tonight
All of a sudden the music crescendos with those two notes that we all know so well and the sky is lit up with the first of the stars that blaze across the sky in an arc above the castle. Im not afraid to admit that at that point I may have cried. Yes, I actually did. I cried just a little. Hard to believe, right? I grab our daughter and hold her so she can have a better view.
As the music and the voices wind their way through the classic movies, our son and daughter excitedly yell out the names of each of the character's voices. They dont miss a single one. Then they laugh. Really laugh.
For seemingly no reason at all.
How about that?
Were a couple of Disney Dorks raising another couple of Disney Dorks.
Its a family tradition.
And I wouldnt want it any other way.
Up next: The Elusive Mickey Bar
