Overdue and Overpacked II: The LaLas Take on the World: EPILOGUE ON PAGE 58

[samc]

This was so darn funny it just had to be repeated. SamC! Not only are you rollin' some tide, but you're also bringin' some funny. DED.

thank you...........but I think you're going for the olympic gold funny on this TR......keep bringin it sista!!

 

[1000thhappyhaunt]

BUT... I noticed that ZZUB was first.

And it took me a little while to figure out the little red triangley "Report Post" button.

I'm still waiting for closure on THAT ONE. BTW.

What do you do after you’ve packed roughly ten suitcases (give or take a baker’s dozen), three laundry baskets, eight fifty-five gallon drums, and twenty three plastic Wal-Mart bags?



The car comes to an abrupt stop and we jerk (NOAlecBaldwin) forward in our seats.



Before we all took permanent leave of our senses, we decided to play a lil sumpm sumpm we like to call I Spy: The Disney Tourist Edition to help pass the time. It's like the old I Spy with a twist. It went something like this:

I spy with my little eyes…someone who’s made an extremely poor footwear choice and is currently paying the price.

I spy with my little eyes…a tank top with entirely too much body hair growing out of it.

I spy with my little eyes...a kid who's had one too many Itzakadoozies today.

I spy with my little eyes….a candidate for the Parent of the Year Award.

I spy with my little eyes….someone who’s apparently mistaken a backpack for a fanny pack.

DED.


Very near deth.


This whole freakin' chapter was so good. As usual.


I laffed so hard I lost my cat.


Cheers, Mel.

 

[sleepingbean]

On page 45 now. I am supposed to be moving, packing, you know...life stuff, but I keep sneaking back to read the next installments and now I am hooked on the in between commentary too (which I bypassed for the first half) and FURTHERMORE I am planning on reading ZZUB's trip reports when I finish yours
How fun!

I am still loving your writing style, LaLa
Laughing, teary, relating, and not relating too!
You crack me up in a good way.

I would love it if you had all of this on a blog for easy access! Maybe someday

 

[mla1977]

Oh mi gosh! I finally make it to the end - THREE DAYS LATER!!! - and there is still no final chapter!?!?!?!

Please please please. I want to be jealous of your dinner at Le Cellier.

 

[Tanya90210]

Well I stopped in to drop you off a lil present... and got one of my own... another installment...


That test track pic looks awesome....


Finding it hard to picture a backpack as a fannypack... that just sounds wrong... let alone probably looking wrong...


Here's your present... was messing with Paint Shop... here ya go

 

[ukwildcat]

Well, I read your new installment the day it was posted. Enjoyed it as usual. Then the in-laws descended upon us. I'm not going to say anything more on the subject. Whatever stereotypical negative images you have of in-laws in your head is probably accurate. It was a long 10 days (and they'll be back in July). And we'll leave it at that.

So, now I can't remember what the chapter was about. And I'm feeling too lazy to go back and read it. Like I said, I know I enjoyed it. So, well done and all that.

Keep dragging it out. I need these momentary breaks from the real world. It seems most on this board need the same.

Looking forward to the next one.

 

[LaLa]

I LOVE this picture! Thank you so much, Tanya90210! That's very cool. That baby's definitely getting printed out and placed into the Disney album. Thanks again and thanks for the comments!

Everytime I see raise the roof I gotta smile. Cause my mom was all excited and trying to be cool-complete with hand motions said, "push up the ceiling"

DED.

MMMbopin...you have mentioned Hanson before.

Admit it.

You are a fan...I was/sorta am.

That's not the kind of thing you admit. To anyone. Just for future reference.

Speaking of, how's that "LaLa's take on Ruby Tuesday" installment coming...cuz that sounds like FUN!

Only if you were on the outside looking in. Not so much from the inside looking out. If you know what I mean.

thank you...........but I think you're going for the olympic gold funny on this TR......keep bringin it sista!!

Thanks right back atcha. And keep rollin' that homemade smilie sista!

I laffed so hard I lost my cat.

Could've been worse. You could've laffed so hard you lost your toupe. NOZZUB. Or your sanity. NOMel.

LY/MI Melly!!!!!

On page 45 now. I am supposed to be moving, packing, you know...life stuff, but I keep sneaking back to read the next installments and now I am hooked on the in between commentary too (which I bypassed for the first half) and FURTHERMORE I am planning on reading ZZUB's trip reports when I finish yours

Thanks for your sweet comments, Sleepingbean. Writing a trip report is a lot of fun. But it's also a lot of work. And I think I speak for all trip report writers when I say we sincerely appreciate all the in between comments. I, for one, am hooked on them too and I'm glad that through reading them, you've found your way to ZZUB's trip reports. Because the man can write. I'm also sorry for you that through reading them, you've found your way to ZZUB's trip reports. All I'm gonna say is prepare yourself for Teppanyaki Much Information. And don't say I didn't warn you.

Oh mi gosh! I finally make it to the end - THREE DAYS LATER!!! - and there is still no final chapter!?!?!?!

Please please please. I want to be jealous of your dinner at Le Cellier.

It's comin', it's comin'. Actually, as Chappie predicted, we're still nowhere NEAR the final chapter. Okay, maybe we're near it. But we're not there yet. There's probably about three more installments left. Or two. Haven't decided yet. It all depends on how longwinded I'm feeling when I sit down at my computer later. Thanks for posting and hang in there though. We'll get there. I promise.

Well, I read your new installment the day it was posted. Enjoyed it as usual. Then the in-laws descended upon us. I'm not going to say anything more on the subject. Whatever stereotypical negative images you have of in-laws in your head is probably accurate. It was a long 10 days (and they'll be back in July). And we'll leave it at that.

So, now I can't remember what the chapter was about. And I'm feeling too lazy to go back and read it. Like I said, I know I enjoyed it. So, well done and all that.

Well, UK. I read your post when I quoted it but now I can't remember what it was about. I'm feeling way to lazy to look up and reread it. But I'm sure I enjoyed it. Actually, I do remember what it was about. Thanks for posting, UK. And hang in there. Because July will be here before you know it.

Thanks yall. All of you. Thanks so much for your funny and sweet responses. I sincerely appreciate them. Yall rock.

 

[LaLa]

In case you were wondering, yes. It’s one week later and we are still, unbelievably, stuck on Test Track.

Well, if you want to get technical, it’s actually eight months later. But who’s counting?

I’m gonna let that one go because it’s just way too easy.

Anyway, we were still going nowhere fast. And now you’re back up to speed.

After attempting to combat boredom with the “I spy an overly sugared kid on a leash” thing, we decided to move onto the “Name That Disney Tune Event”. The kids were astounded when I named that tune in zero notes. Yes, I’m that good. Once I had collected the second gold medal of the trip (and the third in two years), my eardrums were accosted by the sound of my dear loved ones’ incessant yapping.

Don’t get me wrong. Normally the sound of their voices is like music to my ears. It’s a very lovely sound that brings me great joy. Love. Peace. And understanding. But anytime Pete and Repeat are involved, all that crap goes flying out the window and it’s immediately considered incessant yapping. Or yappin’. Depending on how you feel about apostrophes.

Unwritten Rule Number Whatever: Pete and Repeat drive LaLa slap crazy.

My dad used to do the Pete and Repeat thing to me, my sister, and my brother when we were little. And I had just about as much patience for it then as I have now. Of all the things that I had in the backpack, I didn’t have earplugs. And I couldn’t get out of the car. There was no escape. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. To top off my frustration with the fact that we were stuck on Test Track and would more than likely be late for our last ADR in Epicot because of it, I was forced to listen to this for five minutes straight:


Pete and Repeat are sittin’ on a log. Pete fell off. Who’s left?

Repeat!

Pete and Repeat are sittin’ on a log. Pete fell off. Who’s left?

Repeat!

Pete and Repeat are sittin’ on a log. Pete fell off. Who’s left?

Repeat!

Pete and Repeat are sittin’ on a log. Pete fell off. Who’s left?

Repeat!



Yeah. Welcome to my world.

This went on for entirely too long. But once the crazy voices finally stopped, I was able to think clearly once again. And as we sat, I resigned myself to the fact that we would, once again, have to haul butt across the park as fast as we could and would still probably wind up getting there late. Dangit.

I hate rushing. Hate it. But it couldn’t be avoided here. It was out of our hands.

The car finally jerked forward unexpectedly and we began to slowly roll up to the platform and unload. Everyone cheered. Baby Simba cheered louder than anyone else. Well, all except for the woman with the backpack for a fanny pack. She seemed really glad to be able to finally take a load off. From the looks of it, she was a fellow overpacker and was carrying around everything but the kitchen sink in that fanny pack of hers.

Once we’re out of the building, we grab the stroller (double!) and shove the kids in. Before we take off, we tell them to keep their arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. We inform them that the ride will be an exciting high speed adventure which will include sharp turns and sudden stops. We warn them that if they are prone to motion sickness, they should ask their father for a fanny pack.

Cause it was on like a chicken bone, baby. We weren’t stopping.

And with that, DH turned that double stroller on a dime and we took off toward our destination. Even though things weren’t shaping up exactly the way we’d imagined they would on our last night, it was still all good. We were in a pretty playful mood and I recall we laughed a lot as we dodged in and out of traffic, zipped past the dancing fountain, and flew down the crepe myrtle lined path toward the World Showcase. As we hurried toward the Lagoon and our last dinner on property, I looked up and just for a minute, I drank in the sight of the sun setting over Epicot. Made a few parallels in my head. Thought about how pretty it all was.

And heaved a great sigh.

Then I reached out to grab my husband’s arm and was immediately slung to the ground.

The man’s got some long legs and, short of breaking out into a full on jog, there’s no way I can keep up with him when he’s going full throttle. After eleven years of marriage, you’d think that would’ve stuck at some point. Actually, I was content to let him drag me the rest of the way to Canada because my feet were tired and it meant I was gettin’ a free ride. I could’ve done without the skinned knees and elbows, but hey, you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit.

We come to an abrupt stop and I pick myself up, dust myself off, apply pressure to the arteries to stop the bleeding, and clear my throat. Like classy ladies do. And then I announce, “We’re here.”

We walk over the bridge and notice there’s an unusual scent wafting through the air on this night. And no, it wasn’t steak. Or even cheddar cheese soup. Close. It actually smelled a little bit like ginger soup. With just a touch of rot thrown in for good measure.

Which was strange.

We shrug it off and wave to the Haz-Mat team on the way to our destination.

Ahh. Le Cellier. The much maligned but still cool as all get out steak place.

And yes, I took that picture on the way out of the restaurant. Not in. We were late, remember? I had no time to be taking pictures. But if it’s all the same to you, let’s just pretend we took it on the way in and move on, shall we?

We check in at the podium, explaining why we’re late. The CM is extremely friendly and tells us that it’s no problem at all. She ushers us inside and tells us to take a seat until our name is called.

We’re hungry people so we do as we’re told.

We walk inside and sit down on the bench just inside the door. I gotta say, it was a very nice bench. But they’re not just for decoration. They’re for relaxation. And Dave would’ve been all over that bench.

Dude. So slacker.

Once we get sitchated, we then look at each other. And look around the holding area. Or whatever they call it.

The first thing that strikes us is the fact that we are completely and utterly alone. There’s not another soul around. The place seriously looked like a ghost town. Odd. It was actually kind of cool in a freaky, ‘what’s up with that’ kind of way. I think we even said that to each other. “This is kind of cool but also freaky. What’s up with that?” But it was all good. The girl made like the Recreation and Relaxation Expert that she was and sprawled out on the bench. She laid her head in my lap while we waited. As we sat there, I was actually able to take a few pictures of the place without a bunch of sweaty people in the background for a change.

I looked around me and thought “Steak and Ale? I just don’t see it.”

While we waited for our table, DH took the opportunity to take the boy to the bathroom. Before we were seated. Because the unwritten rules never end with us.

It’s a well known fact that as soon as either one of our children sit down at the table at a restaurant, any restaurant, they will inevitably announce they have to go to the bathroom. It never fails. In fact, it’s a running joke among our friends at church that before the chips and salsa are even delivered to the table on any given Sunday, our kids will have to bolt. Even after we’ve taken them both to the bathroom not five minutes beforehand in a pre-emptive strike.

Kids. The fun just never ends with them, does it?

Once the boys make it back from evasive potty action, my husband sits down beside me on the bench and says “Man, I love the smell of that Disney hand soap. Don’t you?” He then smells the back of his hand and shoves it in my face for me to smell. I take a whiff and I have to agree. And then we both laugh at ourselves, at what a couple of Disney geeks we are. And I tell him I’ve never been more attracted to him than I was in that moment.

Disney hand soap. It’s the new Polo Blue.

Right as I’m about to take our daughter to the ladies room for a little pre-emptive strike of our own, our name is called. So we hop up and follow our server to our table in the dining room instead.

Before the funny looking container (what the heck is that thing anyway: a vase, a candleholder, what?!) of pretzel bread is even delivered, the girl announces that she has some bidness that needs to be taken care of.

Shocker!

We find the bathroom, attend to the bidness and then head over to the sink. As we’re standing there lathering up with the hand soap that smells of baby powder and Disney memories, the girl begins to sing.

Starlight, starbright

First star I see tonight

I wish I might, I wish I may (give her a break, she was only five at the time)

Have this wish I wish tonight

And all our wishes…..(all our wishes: yes, she sung that part too)…

will come true…


I should probably clarify something here.

She didn’t merely sing the words. The girl belted them out. Boldly and unabashedly. In the way that only children can do. She was singing like no one was listening. I have to admit, it was pretty darn cute. Even if I hadn’t given birth to the child, I would still think it was pretty darn cute. It was also touching. And it made me just a little bit sad.

As other women walked in and out, some of them smiled huge smiles at the long haired little girl clinging to a stuffed Simba and singing Wishes at the top of her lungs in a Disneyworld bathroom with her eyes screwed shut. One woman clearly didn’t appreciate the impromptu concert. Oddly enough, she was wearing a ponytail, a perma scowl, and a Power Rangers Tshirt. Or was she? At any rate, she seemed to be generally ticked off at the world. NORosieO’Donnell.

But she wasn’t even on the child’s radar. None of them were. The girl didn’t notice any of them. She was in the zone. She was feelin’ it.

And so was her Mama.

I tried all week to find the CD with the Wishes soundtrack on it. And I’m not talking about the Peabo Bryson/Kimberly Locke version either. Although that one’s nice too. They had plenty of those. No, I wanted the real one. The one with Jiminy Cricket and the little girl. You’d think it would be no problem getting your hands on one of those babies in Disneyworld. Not so. I looked all over the parks all week. Tried every gift shop we came across. No soup for me. Time after time I was denied. Apparently they were “sold out”. I never did find the CD and I was bummed. Until I came back here, that is. And realized that I could listen to the song anytime I wanted to, thanks to ZZUB’s tip about Mouseinfo radio. I have to admit that although I’m quite sure he smells (and not in a good way), has ingrown toenails, and doesn’t have a funny bone in his body, the man knows some stuff about Disney. So thanks Z. Now I can go back there in my mind at the drop of a hat. And I can take my daughter along for the ride as well.

As a matter of fact, as I type this, I’m listening to that song. The song that just screams Disney to me now. And I’m smiling. Because when you hear that song, you just have to smile. I think that’s another one of those unwritten rules. And if it’s not, it should be.

But enough about the present. Back to the past.

Once the girl wrapped the free concert and received a standing ovation and a double flush, we made our way back to our seats where we devoured the pretzel bread and ordered dinner. The kids ordered the Cheddar cheese soup as an appetizer.

They thought it was the bomb.

After crunching some numbers, we realized that our children’s daily intake of sugar was a little on the low side.

So we let them order this for dessert.

Yep, those Campfire Smores were a huge hit. Huge.

And just so you don’t worry about our competency as parents, they did have an entrée in between the appetizer and dessert. But I obviously didn’t take any pictures of it. Because it was a hot dog. And really, if you’re so impressed with a hot dog that you feel the need to take a picture of it to show everyone when you get back, you have no business writing a trip report.

Or do you?

Although DH and I (surprisingly) did not decide to go with the hot dog, we (I) didn’t take any pictures of our meal either. Well, except for this one.

Don’t ask me what that is because I have no clue. It was DH’s. And for some reason, even though it was pretty enough to warrant taking a picture of it, I want to say it didn’t really make his socks go up and down.

Whatever that means.

I ordered the mixed field greens salad for my appetizer (loved it) and decided to go with the filet with cream cheese mashed potatoes for the entrée. It was really good. DH enjoyed his meal as well. Even though neither one of us can remember what he had at this point.

Eight months.

It’s been eight months. And there’s no photographic documentation. Give a girl a break.

I think it was the prime rib. Not sure though. Regardless, we really like Le Cellier. A lot. You could even go so far as to say we’re big fans. We like the atmosphere and we’ve always found the food to be really good there, weird appetizers aside. Maybe it’s not the best meal we’ve ever had. After all, it’s pretty hard to top frog legs and baked beans prepared in a vat for 150.

Don’t ask.

But still. It’s pretty darn good.

Not to mention the servers there are some of the nicest we’ve come in contact with at Disney World. They really are. DH always likes to strike up conversations with the CMs at the restaurants and we ended up having a really nice conversation with a really nice Canadian girl on that day. Night. Whatever. She was very sweet and personable. And funny. Not to mention she did an excellent job explaining the menu. Went into great detail about how the food was prepared. She was a real Chatty Cathy. NOCathy. She got four thumbs up from the LaLas.

Or is it eight thumbs up?

Nevermind.

After we finish dinner, we stroll around World Showcase Lagoon. I check the twin gift shops one last time for the Wishes soundtrack CD and get shut down. Yet again. But you knew that already, didn't you?

We then decide to head over to Germany.

Just like most of you, I’m sure, there are several things that we always do on each trip, and the trip never feels complete until we’ve done them. Loading up on candy from Germany is one of those things. It's just not a trip to Disney until we drop some dough on copious amounts of refined sugar from the German pavillion. But this is the thing: we never eat any of it while we’re there. We always bring it home so we can have a little taste of Epicot once the Post Disney Depression sets in.

So we raid the place and load up on a few of bags of Happy Cola gummies for the ride home. If you’ve never tried them, pick up a bag the next time you’re there. Cause there’s nothing like drowning your sorrows in a bottle shaped Coke flavored gummy ..thing…as you leave vacation far behind and barrel your way back into the real world. We then pick out a selection of German chocolates and cookies. We grab our usual Hit cookies and try a few new ones. Just for kicks. I tell the CM to wrap up and box a couple of gourmet apples (best gourmet apples ever in the history of gourmet apples) to take back home as gifts for the kids’ teachers.

Then we pay for our future belly fat and make our way out into the mass of humanity that has already begun to assemble for Illuminations.

We find a spot, scoot in close, and before long, the torches are blown out in unison as that familiar drum beat begins.

We sit back and watch in amazement.

One last time.

Sigh.

I don’t have any pictures of this last show that I can post for you here. There are no photographs and there is no video of this one. I put the camera down for a change and just enjoyed it with my husband, my son and my daughter. We had smiles plastered on our faces as we drank in the sights and the sounds. We felt the boom in our chests and we pointed to the lasers and explosions of color. No matter how many times I see it, I’m still in awe at the sight of the fireworks reflecting over the water as they go off in perfect rhythm to that amazing music.

It’s no wonder it’s our favorite fireworks show on property.

Right before it was over, we began to slowly make our way toward the exit in an effort to get ahead of the huge crowd that was there that night. On the way out, I kept looking back over my shoulder. I’d take a few steps and then turn around, looking at the lights and the buildings. I was drinking in the sight, trying to etch it into my mind.

And trying to make it last just a little bit longer.

In short: I didn’t want it to end.

We worked our way through the crowd as that awesome song, “Promise”, played. We walked past the stars that twinkle underneath our feet and out the gates for the last time, waving goodbye to our mugs on the way out.

I’m sorry to report that the ride back to the AKL was uneventful that evening. There were no testosterone laced honking matches and no one was driven out of Disneyworld.

Because we weren’t listening to Tom Petty.

Once we got back up to our room, we helped the kids get cleaned up, changed, and into the bunk beds where they promptly collapsed from sheer exhaustion. It had been a long week and the nonstop pace had finally taken its toll on all of us. We were bone tired that night. But as tired as we were, I still wasn’t ready to go to sleep.

Not just yet.

With the kids tucked into their beds and well on their way to dream land, my husband and I walked outside and sat on the balcony.

As we took in the fake moonlight over the fake African savannah, we talked and we laughed. Mostly about the memories that had been created that week. We recalled some of the funnier moments and inducted a few new catch phrases into the LaLa family lexicon. Whatever that is. We also talked about home. Discussed our game plan for the next day. And then DH announced that he was heading back inside to hit the hay. He couldn’t hold his eyes open one minute longer and our surprisingly comfortable bed was calling his name. I told him that I was coming right behind him. Then I took one last long look out across the savannah and breathed in the night air. Deeply. I wasn’t able to make out any animals that night. If they were around, I couldn’t tell. The fake moonlight must have been turned down to the lowest setting possible. But I did notice there were several other guests sitting on their balconies across the way. And I caught myself wondering if they were doing the same thing I was doing.

Looking back over their shoulder.

And trying to make it all last just a little bit longer.

After a minute or two, I turned and made my way back into the cool stillness of the room. I kissed my children’s foreheads, said a prayer for them, and crawled into bed beside my husband.

As tired as I was, it would be awhile before I drifted off to sleep that night. And it wasn’t because my mind was racing. The bed was comfortable enough and I wasn’t too tired to sleep. Or too excited to sleep. There weren’t a bunch of flush happy Alabama fans in the rooms around me keeping me awake.

No, it was much simpler than that.

I couldn’t sleep because someone was snoring.

And I’m not saying who.


Up Next: The Next To The Last One. I think.

 

[ukwildcat]

In case you were wondering, yes. It’s one week later and we are still, unbelievably, stuck on Test Track.

Well, if you want to get technical, it’s actually eight months later. But who’s counting?

I’m gonna let that one go because it’s just way too easy.

Anyway, we were still going nowhere fast. And now you’re back up to speed.

Was this for me? If it was, thanks, I guess.

Cause it was on like a chicken bone, baby.

This doesn't even make sense. Another reason I know you're from the south, and not just faking it like some people we know.

As other women walked in and out, some of them smiled huge smiles at the long haired little girl clinging to a stuffed Simba and singing Wishes at the top of her lungs in a Disneyworld bathroom with her eyes screwed shut. One woman clearly didn’t appreciate the impromptu concert. Oddly enough, she was wearing a ponytail, a perma scowl, and a Power Rangers Tshirt. Or was she? At any rate, she seemed to be generally ticked off at the world. NORosieO’Donnell.

This was just funny. What is it with Rosie? And not because of her political viewpoint. Why is she so angry about everything? I don't get people who are so far left or right that things get angry and ugly. Mini-rant over.

Then I took one last long look out across the savannah and breathed in the night air. Deeply. I wasn’t able to make out any animals that night. If they were around, I couldn’t tell. The fake moonlight must have been turned down to the lowest setting possible. But I did notice there were several other guests sitting on their balconies across the way. And I caught myself wondering if they were doing the same thing I was doing.

Looking back over their shoulder.

And trying to make it all last just a little bit longer.

Now this made me a bit sad. We all know that feeling. And you can't explain it to anyone who isn't a Disneyphile.

Even though this TR is almost over, I'm going to go out on a limb and predict you will announce your next trip is scheduled during free dining in September. So, I've got that to look forwad to.

These TRs are kind of like Prime Time T.V. Shows have a season, and then go on hiatus in the summer. We'll just have to wait for the next season.

Thanks for the entertainment.

 

[CampbellScot]

BRAVO!!! That was a GREAT chapter!! Made me cry with with the Wishes Concert...made me laugh with the falling down...made me dang hungry with the pics of cheddar cheese soup and pretzel bread.

This chapter Had. It. All.

SUPERB!!!

more please

 

[Chapter 11]

Yeah. Welcome to my world.

Thanks all the same, but I hear the landlord is, well, nuts.

We come to an abrupt stop and I pick myself up, dust myself off, apply pressure to the arteries to stop the bleeding, and clear my throat. Like classy ladies do.

Or, so you hear.

As we’re standing there lathering up with the hand soap that smells of baby powder and Disney memories, the girl begins to sing.

That whole interlude is just so sweet. I guess you'll just have to keep her, ill-timed potty breaks and all.

I tried all week to find the CD with the Wishes soundtrack on it. And I’m not talking about the Peabo Bryson/Kimberly Locke version either.

The fact that you even know this (or took the time to Google it) frightens me in ways you cannot possibly imagine.

Don’t ask me what that is because I have no clue.

If I had to guess, I'd say some type of smoked salmon appetizer. Lox, if you will, without the bagel.

After all, it’s pretty hard to top frog legs and baked beans prepared in a vat for 150.

Don’t ask.

Is that "don't ask" even necessary? Does anyone really want to know? Show of hands .... nope, nobody.

Sigh.

Oh, for cripes sake, stop with the sighing and get to planning your next trip. How can the rest of us, who live vicariously through your trip reports like a Little League Dad who dreams of pitching in The Show as he watches junior try to heave the ball from the mound to the plate, survive without Overdue and Overpacked III (Bigger, Badder and Barfier)?

Very lovely installment by the way.

 

[1000thhappyhaunt]

You are a FANTASTIC writer.


This chapter was truly excellent.


So good that I could quote the whole shebang. Twice. Or, at least, four times. Once for each of your thumbs.


And I'd have to b/c I can't do the fancy fancy pants little quote then comment then little quote thingie. Like Chappie.


Or else I can't be bothered.


You figure it out.



ANYWHO... GET BACK to DISNEY WOMAN!!!!!


B/c everyone here needs another dose of your sweet funny.


So... get back to Disney!!! SOON.


Or I'll never leave you alone.


That's a threat.


BTW.



And a promise.



Between the laughter and the tears running down my cheeks.


Which has absolutely RUINED my desk chair. TFI.


I noticed that you STILL have good taste.


Y'all like Le STELLIER!!!!


And Canada.


And even your Canadian CM friend. Whatever her name was.


What have I been telling you all along????!!!!!


We're nice people.


But... it's a good thing y'all were so nice to her too. And talked to her. Didn't ignore her and just order. Your weird fish cupcake appetizer. NOMr.LaLa.


Or else she'd probably have pitched a fit of rage unlike you've ever seen before. And threatened to quit her job. Right there and then.


We're also an emotional, feisty and passionate lot.


Except when it comes to domestic politics.


Now then... this was so good that I will now go and teach my old dog...


New tricks


And... I will also send you my personal home video of ZZUB cutting a rug:




After which he will attempt to return it to the store where it was purchased.


Three times. At least.


We all know what he's like with money. By now.


Can't wait for the last. And, yet... I CAN!!!!


Cheers, Mel.

 

[ZZUB]

But who’s counting?

Hopefully, not Frick. She's math impaired you know. Yes the joke was easy. But that's no reason not to make it.

We walk over the bridge and notice there’s an unusual scent wafting through the air on this night. And no, it wasn’t steak. Or even cheddar cheese soup. Close. It actually smelled a little bit like ginger soup. With just a touch of rot thrown in for good measure. Which was strange.

Even I have trouble believing that smell lingered that long. But ginger is a strong spice. NOPoshSpice.

The much maligned but still cool as all get out steak place.

Unfortunately LeSteakandAleier is NONE of those things.

t’s a running joke among our friends at church that before the chips and salsa are even delivered to the table on any given Sunday, our kids will have to bolt.

What kind of high-falutin church do you attend? Ours only uses crackers and grape juice for communion.

Now then.

If I was the kind of person given to any sort of emotion, I would have been moved by this chapter. Fortunately, I'm a hard driving, no-nonsense, emotionally constipated kind of guy who hasn't felt anything since 1986.

I agree with the many before me who have said it well, you're a great writer and the Disboards will be a lousy place until there is another current LaLa Trip Report to read.

 

[nicolemarie]

Pete and Repeat are sittin’ on a log. Pete fell off. Who’s left?

Repeat!

Pete and Repeat are sittin’ on a log. Pete fell off. Who’s left?

Repeat!

Pete and Repeat are sittin’ on a log. Pete fell off. Who’s left?

Repeat!

Pete and Repeat are sittin’ on a log. Pete fell off. Who’s left?

Repeat!

WHEW!!! Thank GOODNESS the little NMs have never heard that one! That's brutal when your countin' the seconds and worried you're late for the most coveted ADR in the whole park.

We walk over the bridge and notice there’s an unusual scent wafting through the air on this night. And no, it wasn’t steak. Or even cheddar cheese soup. Close. It actually smelled a little bit like ginger soup. With just a touch of rot thrown in for good measure.

LA!!! That's FULL ON disgusting! You can't take advantage of your awesome ability to put the reader right where you are. I don't wanna be there this time.

Once the boys make it back from evasive potty action, my husband sits down beside me on the bench and says “Man, I love the smell of that Disney hand soap. Don’t you?” He then smells the back of his hand and shoves it in my face for me to smell. I take a whiff and I have to agree. And then we both laugh at ourselves, at what a couple of Disney geeks we are. And I tell him I’ve never been more attracted to him than I was in that moment.

And I've never been more proud to call you my friends.

I have to admit, it was pretty darn cute. Even if I hadn’t given birth to the child, I would still think it was pretty darn cute.

La, I can just picture that sweet moment! And in my quest to add to the Disney Music Collection this last trip, we bought the Wishes! CD. I even have it on my Ipod to run to.

Tell me THAT ain't a big Disney geek.

Loading up on candy from Germany is one of those things. It's just not a trip to Disney until we drop some dough on copious amounts of refined sugar from the German pavillion.

Hmmmm. We've never even shopped in the German pavillion. Much less bought candy from there. I'm more of a Mickey Rice Krispie Treat girl. But if I'm ever in Germany (the Epcot version) I might have to check it out. In honor of the LaLas.

Once we got back up to our room, we helped the kids get cleaned up, changed, and into the bunk beds where they promptly collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

By "cleaned up" you're meaning baths, right? Cause you can get some pretty nasty stomach bugs when you don't bathe your kids at night.

With the kids tucked into their beds and well on their way to dream land, my husband and I walked outside and sat on the balcony.

As we took in the fake moonlight over the fake African savannah, we talked and we laughed. Mostly about the memories that had been created that week. We recalled some of the funnier moments and inducted a few new catch phrases into the LaLa family lexicon. Whatever that is. We also talked about home. Discussed our game plan for the next day. And then DH announced that he was heading back inside to hit the hay. He couldn’t hold his eyes open one minute longer and our surprisingly comfortable bed was calling his name. I told him that I was coming right behind him. Then I took one last long look out across the savannah and breathed in the night air. Deeply. I wasn’t able to make out any animals that night. If they were around, I couldn’t tell. The fake moonlight must have been turned down to the lowest setting possible. But I did notice there were several other guests sitting on their balconies across the way. And I caught myself wondering if they were doing the same thing I was doing.

There's just something about a balcony at Disney World that is some of the best time of our whole vacation. You hit the nail on the head with the balcony conversation. You talk. You laugh. You discuss the fun things that have already happened, and you make a plan for that day or the next. It's one of my favorite parts of the Disney vacation.

Well, aside from the rides, shows, music and food.

LaLa, this was an incredibly sweet installment. I loved the melancholy looks over the vacation as it was coming to a close. I love your recollection of the small, yet significant details. Has anyone ever told you that you have a great memory?

I'm very sad your trip is coming to an end. Drag it out as long as you can. Otherwise, I'll have to start reading ZZUB's all over again and that won't be good. Especially if I hit Chapter 13 right before our next trip with the free AP's.

Keep it comin', my sweet friend.

NM

 

[Tanya90210]

Great Chapter!!!

 

[my2boysrtwicethefun]

Great installment! The balcony scene had my eyes a flushing or is it flushin'.

 

[JKMJ441724]

Once we’re out of the building, we grab the stroller (double!) and shove the kids in. Before we take off, we tell them to keep their arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. We inform them that the ride will be an exciting high speed adventure which will include sharp turns and sudden stops. We warn them that if they are prone to motion sickness, they should ask their father for a fanny pack.

What about bad dancing? Was bad dancing allowed on this ride?

 

[JKMJ441724]

We walk over the bridge and notice there’s an unusual scent wafting through the air on this night. And no, it wasn’t steak. Or even cheddar cheese soup. Close. It actually smelled a little bit like ginger soup. With just a touch of rot thrown in for good measure.

Which was strange.

We shrug it off and wave to the Haz-Mat team on the way to our destination.

I was reading this and thought "please, please don't say it was the bathrooms." And that's what is was!! Ewww

 

[JKMJ441724]

We find the bathroom, attend to the bidness and then head over to the sink. As we’re standing there lathering up with the hand soap that smells of baby powder and Disney memories, the girl begins to sing.

I should probably clarify something here.

She didn’t merely sing the words. The girl belted them out. Boldly and unabashedly. In the way that only children can do. She was singing like no one was listening. I have to admit, it was pretty darn cute. Even if I hadn’t given birth to the child, I would still think it was pretty darn cute. It was also touching. And it made me just a little bit sad.
[/B]

Sorry for the multiple posts, I STILL don't know how to work that multi-qote thingy.

My girl is 5 and sings like that. Target, grocery store, didn't matter. We had one lady walk up to us and said "sing it, Sista!"

 

[samc]

LaLa.........
good one girl!.....lots of quote worthy stuff....multi-quote worthy actually, which I can do but I won't...NOMel LY/MI ROLL TIDE......cause this chapter got me all misty eyed and wishing I had another trip planned

BORG on the last day/night emotions, soakin it all in and trying to make it last as long as possible.........sorta like a good TR that won't make you go numb...NOzzub. LY/MI - ROLL TIDE

so slow down and drag this puppy out.......it's the new - hurry up and post a new installment!!!