(In case it isn't clear, I'm still actively on this trip. You, fine DISboard members, get to witness the train wreck in real-time. If you're in the parks this week and see a guy with glazed-over eyes, that's me. Of course that also describes 72% of the fathers at Disney, so...)
DAY 2: MAGIC KINGDOM
Despite our misgivings, we relent and buy
Disney+. There's no way around it. The park experience has been custom built to block your enjoyment at every opportunity, but for a small convenience fee Disney will happily make your day slightly more tolerable. At this point it can't hurt. The bar is so low the devil is using it as a towel rack.
Another nice surprise to start the day; my SIL is letting us use the first Fast Passes to ensure that we can ride Haunted Mansion in the morning. It's... thoughtful? Selfless? Is this the same woman who tore my head off the evening prior over a case of beer? Screw it, I ain't about to question her motives.
We leave without the child and my mother. My brother's minivan should be used to The Gaggle by now, so what's a couple more bodies? An uneventful drive and boat ride later and we're at the Magic Kingdom. Now we just need to scan our passes. The cast member holds up a fist to signal that there's issues at the front of the line. Fine, we'll move to another stand. Another fist in the air. Walk to the far left gates. More fists.
The Haunted Mansion is fine. I get a sick sense of glee watching the rubes in the Stand-by Line. I was once like you, but I have harnessed the power of
Genie+, all for a low, low fee. Halfway through the ride I start to feel... joy? Is such a thing possible at Disney? We're bombarded with text messages from the rest of the group when we exit. Welp, it was fun while it lasted.
They're waiting for us in Tomorrowland. No wait, they'll meet us in Frontierland. Oops, a half dozen tiny bladders have detoured them back toward Fantasyland. We eventually catch up. My SIL has booked the next batch of fast passes without consulting us. Honestly, I'm more impressed she bothered to tell us.
We have time to kill before our next pre-determined experience, so let's go ride Dumbo. We don't realize there's a line with a play space. Four little girls all start shaking with excitement. Wait, where did they disappear to? Were there ever any children with us? The buzzer for Dumbo proper looks like a tazer. I beg my wife to jab it into my jugular.
When it's time to leave the play space, the youngest in the group decides that the elephant can wait. Slide now. What could be better than slide? And so... the tantrum begins. I don't miss those days. My brother tries to calm down a flailing princess. The attempt is admirable, if pointless.
Due to the size of our group, I get to have a paciderm all to myself. I take out my frustration on those hydraulics. Dumbo's gonna earn his keep today.
Our fast pass for the Little Mermaid is ready. We slide into Ariel's clam for a relaxing ride. The animatronics all look dead inside. I can relate.
Somehow in the time it took us to exit the ride the SIL has booked the next batch of fast passes. The wife and I decline. My mother offers to take the child off our hands for a bit if we would rather do something else. If SIL gonna keep booking passes without our input, then she's all yours. Enjoy your Uncrustables, losers.
My wife has figured out the Disney app, so we order lunch from Columbia Harbor House. Pickup in an hour? Is Disney allowed to have wait times that short? We wander over for a Dole Whip. We think the line is for mobile order, so we follow suit. Nope, ready immediately. The line for Pirates is only half an hour. Folks, I believe my luck may have turned a corner.
But more than that, we've stumbled onto how to make a family trip to Disney palatable;
Ditch the family.
However, the chains. Oh, those damnable chains in the line for Pirates. Constantly clanging to the fancies of unattended children. Whatever sadist in Imagineering thought that loose chains was a great idea needs a smack upside the head. Speaking of heads, mine is throbbing before the first "yo-ho."
We leave Pirates and head to pick up our food. We find the rest of the group in line for the Magic Carpets. We'll grab our food and be right back.
Maybe.
That's when the phones start to go awry. No signal. Now we have a signal, but the app keeps crashing. The app is working, but we can't log in. The vengeful spirit of Steve Jobs is messing with us. Worse than phone troubles, our digital tether to any sanity in this hellscape has been snapped, and we can't confirm our mobile order.
Luckily, Disney is prepared. The cast member checks us in and gives us our confirmation number. I'm amazed that Disney has a contingency in place instead of prescripted platitudes that amount to, "Sucks to be you." I angrily choke down a lobster roll while running diagnostics on our cell phones.
We didn't touch our fries, so we figure we'll be nice and bring them back to the girls. My SIL says they're at Swiss Family Treehouse. Just kidding, now they're at the entrance to Frontierland. No, the other entrance to Frontierland. No, the OTHER other entrance to Frontierland. WOMAN, YOU ARE STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO COUNTRY BEARS! USE YOUR LANDMARKS!
The Gaggle and the Child are ears deep into Mickey bars, but the fries are an acceptable snackrifice.
We settle in for the parade, but just as the princess float crests the horizon my SIL decides that our spot isn't good enough. Whatever...
The girls all love the parade. My daughter says that her favorite princess, Ariel, was waving right to her and they locked eyes. I can't bring myself to correct her.
My mother offers to head back to the house with us to babysit if we want to FINALLY utilize our Park Hoppers. Okay, maybe it wasn't so much a question as it was a cry for help. We find an excuse to aid with her escape.
My brother has now been left on his own to close the park with his wife and kids. Godspeed, sir.
BONUS DAY 2: EPCOT