eleven24
DVC AKV 2007
- Joined
- Jan 5, 2008
- Messages
- 183
So there we are, my son and I all sprayed with sunscreen & our gameplan set to get in as many things as we can. Grab something to eat, a couple bottles of water out of the refrig, and we're ready to go.
Twist the handle, open the door. Hear that familiar click followed by the sound of air rushing in and... wait, what just fluttered in my peripheral vision? What is this magical, fluttering piece of paper twirling in the breeze of the opening door?
It is in that moment, before the white envelope on a string returns to rest against the door that reality sets in. Through my head ran the images of a man dressed in a cloak who moved with the stealthiness of a ninja through the hallway to our door as we slept. My son, standing there as if every bit of air escaped his lungs almost begs me without speaking to not look at it. Ignore it.
But we both know what it is.
In an instant I slid it off the handle, took a stride into the room and left it on the counter. No need to look at the envelope's contents. No need to verify what it says. Let's just go enjoy our last day at the park.
As we walked down the hall of BLT not a word was said. It wasn't until after we heard our door latch click as it closed behind us that my 16 year old son turned to me and said "I hate that envelope".
"Me too", I say. "Me too".
Twist the handle, open the door. Hear that familiar click followed by the sound of air rushing in and... wait, what just fluttered in my peripheral vision? What is this magical, fluttering piece of paper twirling in the breeze of the opening door?
It is in that moment, before the white envelope on a string returns to rest against the door that reality sets in. Through my head ran the images of a man dressed in a cloak who moved with the stealthiness of a ninja through the hallway to our door as we slept. My son, standing there as if every bit of air escaped his lungs almost begs me without speaking to not look at it. Ignore it.
But we both know what it is.
In an instant I slid it off the handle, took a stride into the room and left it on the counter. No need to look at the envelope's contents. No need to verify what it says. Let's just go enjoy our last day at the park.
As we walked down the hall of BLT not a word was said. It wasn't until after we heard our door latch click as it closed behind us that my 16 year old son turned to me and said "I hate that envelope".
"Me too", I say. "Me too".
Bummer. Plan your next trip as soon as you get home. It will give you something to look forward to.
