The last day of vacation is normally a pretty somber time for us. And since you're spending your time reading this drivel when you could be pursuing your Olympic dream instead, I'm going to assume it's probably the same for you as well.
As we lay in bed on the last morning, we always feel a mix of equal parts melancholy and jealousy over the fact that were going home and some stranger is just a roll of the housekeepers cart away from jumping on our beds, drooling on our pillows and peeing in our shower. That feeling is always heightened on our trips to Disney. Mainly because we feel pretty sure theres more bed jumping, pillow drooling and shower peeing going on in those rooms than your average room. For other, lesser important reasons as well. And as we woke up the next morning and the realization hit us that in just a few short hours we would be bidding the Royal Pacific au revoir and heading back to the house, we reluctantly welcomed our old familiar friend back into our lives.
And found that hed undergone a name change.
We were experiencing our first full blown case of Universalshadenfruede.
UniversalDisneyfreude. DisneyUniversalschadenfreude.
Universalweinerschnitzel.
Something.
All we knew is we were going home and we didnt like it.
The kids stared solemnly out the window, taking in the beauty of the perfectly manicured grounds for the last time. They kicked their toes on the carpet and looked at us with their sad, puppy dog eyes. And begged One more day please Daddy?"
Normally my husband is a man on a mission when it comes to departure days. Don't get me wrong. He loves vacation just as much as the next guy and hates for it to end. But once hes up and knows its time to get the ball rolling, hes all business. He grabs his coffee and blows his whistle in our ears. Well, if we allowed him to have a whistle, I feel pretty sure hed blow it in our ears. He then proceeds to aggravate the stew out of everyone in the room until were all wide awake and begging for mercy. At which point he picks us up out of bed, carries us kicking and screaming into the bathroom where he tosses us into the shower and pops us on the tail with a wet towel.
With little to no room for sympathy.
But today things were different.
He wasnt so concerned about getting down to the business of blazing a trail back home. All in the name of beating last years time. We could do that anytime. No, today he wanted to stay just as bad as we did. Plus the kids puppy dog eyes are his Kryptonite. So rather than leaving first thing in the morning like wed planned to do, we were calling an audible. Mixin it up a lil bit. Keeping things interesting. Basically, we were packing in one more park visit and leaving late that afternoon instead of first thing in the morning.
Cause were wild and crazy like that.
Once wed finished packing our ninety six suitcases and fifty three plastic Dollar Tree bags (because Dollar Tree is the new
WalMart), we did a thorough scan, checking the bathroom, letting our fingers rest gently on the Keurig coffee maker one last time, kissing the cooler than cool bathroom dimmer switches goodbye, and checking underneath the beds. That last part was the boys job so he knelt down, did a quick hand swipe underneath the bed and came back up with an empty wine bottle in his hand. He looked at it quizzically, then held it over his head and shouted What the?!
He never finishes that phrase because he has no earthly idea anything is supposed to come after the. And thats just the way we want it.
It was in that very moment that we solved the mystery of where Mel has been all this time. We just thought she was camping in the Northwoods. Wearing tank tops, growing out her pit hair and training for the Worlds Strongest Man Competition. But apparently she was hanging out at Universal. More specifically, she was hanging out in our room. Before it was our room. Suckin back the free booze, drooling on the pillows and peeing in the shower.
Just like a man.
At any rate, we were pretty creeped out that apparently housekeeping never noticed this big honkin wine bottle on the floor of our room. One could safely assume the last time the place had been vacuumed was Cinco de Nevero.
Ole!
Once wed gotten everything loaded up, we called for a bellhop and then walked that now familiar path downstairs and proceeded to load the van. Well, DH and the bellhop loaded the van. The kids and I basically hid behind a stone column and cautiously peeked around the edge every now and then. Watching DH and the bellhop load the van. With all of our stuff.
And then cuss a blue streak. With just their eyes.
Once the van was ready to go, DH hopped in and drove over to the self parking area and then met us back at the resort. We then cut through the lobby and made our way to the back of the resort, opting to take the short and scenic stroll over to Citywalk.
For the last time.
Sigh.
By this point, it was nearing lunchtime so once we arrived at Citywalk, we began eagerly scoping out our choices. To say the dining choices there are abundant is an understatement. Theres something to suit every taste and then some. And with all those dining options, where do you think the LaLas decided to partake of their last official vacation meal?
Like a moth to a flame.
But not for the reasons you think.
I believe by now, its been established that were Rednecks. We jam out to Dueling Banjos, have been known to use duct tape to fix a stroller, and say do what? without giving the meaning of the expression a second thought. We can do a mean Two Step, know every word to more than one Bocephus song, and grow tomatoes on the backporch. Were your average down home country folk. We know it, we own it. And truth be told, we dont consider that to be such a bad thing. Well, except for the duct tape fixin frenzy. That was pretty bad. But of all the Redneck qualifiers ingrained in us, we lack one crucial tendency.
Were not into Nascar.
Not in the least.
In fact, the only time weve ever watched Nascar was while visiting my aunt and uncle a few years back. We were eating lunch in the living room on a set of TV trays and my uncle was all over the Nascar. Excitedly watching the race and pointing at the cars flying around the track. In between fidgeting in his seat, clapping and yelling at the top of his lungs and sloshing his sweet tea around as he cheered on Dale Jr., he asked my husband if he liked watching the races. Bless his heart, he mustve asked him that question five different times within ten minutes. Most likely hoping his answer would change from not really to heck yeah I do!
But it didnt. Because were not Nascar people.
So that wasnt the reason we chose the Nascar Sports Grille for our last vacation meal. We chose it for a much more important reason. We chose it because we heard tale they had them fancy plasma TVs mounted at each one of them there tables.
Im not kidding. Thats the reason we went there. Not for the Nascar memorabilia. Not for the ridiculously cool arcade located on the second level. Not for the Philly cheesesteak covered in Cheese Whiz. Not for the sports bar and its twenty eight hundred ten foot tall television screens situated therein. We went because they have mini plasma TVs mounted at each and every booth.
Personal plasma TVs. Theyre the new underwater speakers.
I realize that makes me seem like even more of a Redneck than if we actually went there for the Nascar memorabilia. But thats us. Thats how we roll it. And thats how we determine our dining establishments. Yet another reason you should never share a meal with us if given the opportunity.
Choice made, we strutted into the place and stopped dead in our tracks.
There they were.
Insert angelic chorus here.
Once wed been seated, we got the party started by fighting over the tableside remote control mounted in the wall and changing the channel really fast. Like Ham searching for a man in a chicken suit. Pausing only to say Its a remote control! Mounted in the wall! I aint never seen nothin like this bfore.
We finally settled for Nickelodeon, ordered our food and dug in when it arrived.
Health food it aint. Not by a long shot.
In fact, if we sat perfectly still, we could almost feel our arteries clogging. But once I pulled the big honkin onion ring off the top of mine (hoping that in doing so I might add another six months to my lifespan), that was the best burger ever. In the history of the world of burgers. It was so good it shouldve been a crime. And probably is. In some states. DH thoroughly enjoyed his coronary dog smothered in plaque build up as well.
We fed the kids something too. Because were cool like that.
As we finished up, the conversation eventually turned to our trip. And how pleasantly surprised wed been with it as a whole. Being the Disney nuts that we are, we never thought wed like Universal as much as we did. But as we sat there, I remember looking around me and making the remark that Universal was big time. I never had a clue it was going to be that cool. Or that we would love it as much as we did. It was at that point that my husband broke it down and likened the two destinations to Coke and Pepsi. Ones better than the other and everyone has a clear favorite. But theyre both pretty darn good products and bring two similar yet distinctly different tastes to the table.
The man can be very prolific when discussing soft drinks and theme parks.
After we expanded our metaphors to include Six Flags and Beverly, we paid the facilities a visit, marveling at how fancy the bathrooms were for a Redneck haven and then took off for our last fun filled adventure at Universal Orlando.
And on this day, the day when I was finally content to stand still and allow myself to soak in the moment instead of rushing off in a hurry, I waited for the globe to turn all the way around.
And finally got my shot.
Universal is the new Ersal.
We spent the next few hours strolling down the streets of Universal Studios hand in hand and jumping from one attraction to the next. Flashing our cool as all get out Universal passes. Then kissing them. Gaining some ridiculous access. Laughing. Smiling. Sighing. Heavily.
And taking a few pictures along the way.
Something tells me my dad and his roll of duct tape have been here..
Be good.
Once wed ridden all of the new instant classics back to back several times, thumbed our noses at the non Express Pass rabble and grabbed a few extremely refreshing slushies, we started our walk toward the exit. Where we ran into Chappie, Frick and NM along the way.
The kids were mesmerized by the scene. Frankly, wed never seen anything like it before. Except for that last time we visited the In Laws.
Kidding.
We watched without blinking as Beetlejuice walked across the street and approached some poor schmucks outdoor table, picked up a slice of pizza from his plate, took a huge bite, chewed thoughtfully for a moment or two and then tossed the pizza back on the plate and moved on. Very nonchalantly. That, hands down, was one of the funniest scenes weve ever witnessed in any theme park. Of course, it was only funny because it didnt happen to us. Because if Beetlejuice had put his makeupped lips around a slice of DHs pizza, I imagine he wouldve come out swingin. But he didnt. So we laughed. At the poor schmuck who was now left with half a slice of pizza and an attitude problem. We laughed all the way to the exit. And then we saw the exit, processed just what it meant, and instantly became blue.
Not that blue. But close.
In retrospect, this trip turned out to be so much more than we couldve ever hoped for. The beginning, in some ways, mirrored a few of the minor struggles that we were dealing with at the time that we decided to break away and blow off some steam in Orlando. And Lake Buena Vista. From the moment we ran out of the treacherous storm and witnessed that beautiful rainbow on our arrival day, we knew this trip would be a blessed time of family togetherness.
And it definitely was.
The same can be said for our lives and the changes weve experienced since that trip. As we stand on the other side and look back and marvel at how blessed we truly are.
God is good. All the time.
Unlike a couple of past reports Ive written about our family adventures in the House that Walt built, I dont suppose Ill be wrapping this one up with anything too terribly thought provoking. There wont be any soul searching observations about my never ending love for the three awesome individuals who walk through life hand in hand with me. No bittersweet flashbacks of each and every funny and touching memory we made on this trip. Although they were plentiful. No recanting how many awesome surprises this trip held for us. No reflections on the storm to end all storms. No more teary eyed observations of how fast our children are growing up and how we have to make good time with them now while we can. I think Ive done enough of that already. No, I believe the best way to sum up our time spent on this vacation, this tale of two cities, is by merely stating the obvious. This trip was just about one average American family who probably happens to be much like yours (minus the pit hair, third eye, and the mullets), getting away from it all for a little while. Having a heck of a lot of fun discovering a brand new playground. And thoroughly enjoying the blessed opportunity to visit an old favorite as well.
No more. No less.
As far as the two cities go, it doesnt take a Top Gun instructor to figure out the fact that Disney is our Coke. Its our clear favorite and I can't imagine a day when it won't be top dog in our book. Top mouse if you must. Regardless, we were all extremely pleased with our new vacation find. To channel Jesse Jackson, were filled with elation. To be adding another vacation. Destination. To the rotation.
But even more than that, we were reminded once again that its not the destination that matters so much as it is the company you keep.
Unless the destination is Dollywood.
And the company is the Doodle Bops.
In which case, your whole weeks going down the tubes faster than John Edwards future political aspirations.
All too soon, we found ourselves taking our last stroll back toward the resort. The three people I love the most in this world walked just ahead of me as I took in the sight of them together. And snapped a few last pictures.
In a pathetic attempt to make it last longer.
We eventually found our way back to the van, climbed in, buckled up, set the GPS for home and took off. In our never ending pursuit of the good time. We didnt make it very far that day before we felt the need to bust out the first LaLa Family Ride to the Ranch tradition: we ripped into our first bag of Happy Colas.
As we chewed on little pieces of corn syrup based happiness, waved goodbye to the Gatorland sign and fired up our cooler than cool CDs, we began to rattle off our favorite moments of the trip. Like we always do on the way home. And then the girl said it. That one phrase that sent us all into a state of shock. NOMichaelJackson.
Daddy, I miss Universal Studios.
DH nearly drove off the road. The boy rolled his eyes and popped another Happy Cola or three in his mouth. And I agreed with the girl. Wed had an awesome time, probably the best trip to date, and I already couldnt wait to go back.
As I sit here in my living room far removed from the last day of our trip and pop a Happy Cola or three in my mouth (somehow its just not the same when they come from Walgreens), I have no idea when that might be. When we might return. Weve thrown ourselves full on back into work and school and dance and football and other assorted responsibilities right now. And our vacation drawing board is a blank canvas. We have everything before us and we have nothing before us. We may not know when or where our next trip will be drawn up or even specifically what it may look like. But one thing is certain though. Whenever our next picture is drawn, and however it's drawn, I have every confidence in the world that itll be a beautiful one.
Complete with sunshine and smiling faces.
And, God willing, plenty of yellow.
I need more!
