Ok, so I HAVE to do this Disney vacation wrap-up. No, really, because this blog is the only record my family will ever have of this trip…or of anything we ever do. How screwed up is that?
In 20 years:
Collin’s kids: Dad, where are all the pictures from when you were little?
Collin: Well, let me just pull up your grandmother’s blog…
Maybe I should create scrapbooks, you know, like a normal mother? Or maybe stop sewing felt vaginas?
But I digress…
Day 5 – Epcot
All you need to know about Epcot is that their World Showcase is not real. I mean, I know it’s not real real, but as it turns out, the products they sell ARE NOT EVEN FROM THE COUNTRY YOU’RE IN!
For example, the kids loved playing with the instruments displayed in Africa, so I thought to myself, “Candy Ass, you should buy the darlings a tambourine so you’ll have something valuable to take away when they start acting up.” (TIP: Always be prepared to deprive them, otherwise, they hold the upper hand.)
So I picked up the African tambourine and…
HECHO EN MEXICO?
HECHO EN MEXICO?
So let me get this straight, we visit Africa, in America, to buy a tambourine made in Mexico? UGGGHH. I wanted nothing more than to push that Mexican musical cart right through boring Norway and into the base of the Mayan temple! …and then buy another margarita, seeing as I was back in Mexico. But I didn’t, so it was on to Japan…
Yup- Japan gifts, made in China.
Oh well, at least I knew the shit in China would be real. And it’s not like you can find “Made in China” products just anywhere, so there’s that.
Day 6 – Disney Quest
Ah, Disney “The 5 story video game place that we get into for free with our park tickets and our kids would have been happier just to stay here all 6 days” Quest.
Because our family is extremely competitive and hates to lose, we spent most of our time playing in KidQuest, the gaming zone designed for children ages 2-7.
Here’s Brian kicking a tiny game’s ass as a group of preschoolers form around him, some in awe, others crying, one offers to buy the next round of juice boxes:
Sure, setting the high score in the kiddie area might be a boost to our self esteem, but it’s entering the winning initials “A.S.S.” that we truly live for.
After Leaving Disney Quest, we walked over to the Lego store…
where Ana played until the kid in the black jacket sneezed into the Lego bowl then fished around for his cough drop.
After generously coating everyone with hand sanitizer, we headed to a nearby Irish restaurant for dinner.
Much to our delight, they had dance performers throughout the meal and, at one point, they invited children to come up.
Here’s Ana performing:
I had two chocolate martinis made with Bailey’s Irish Cream.
Martini #1 – “Look at her, she’s a natural!”
Martini #2 – “You know, I’m signing her up for Irish dance lessons the moment we get home because she really seems to enjoy it, you know? I bet she could get a scholarship, you know?”
Day 7 – Heading Home
During our trip, the stroller we’ve had since Collin was a baby, broke. I wanted to cry.
I know it sounds stupid, but I felt horrible knowing I’d have to leave it behind. This wonderful apparatus, this, this, godsend, this beautiful stroller, it restrained my children for many years, allowing me to do some really special things, things like peeing in public stalls, trying on clothes in handicap dressing rooms, and walking through various mall parking lots wondering where the hell my car was.
So it was with tremendous grief that I carried the stroller into the rental unit’s garage and, amid the screams of “MOM WHERE ARE YOUUUU?”, said my final goodbyes.
And then I put it down.
If I’m honest with myself, Stroller had been struggling for years. It really was the most humane thing to do.
Farewell, good friend, farewell.
The Airport
Apparently, airport security does this new thing where they ask your kid who you are to them, and you have to stand there with your mouth shut hoping they’ll say “My mom” and not “She must be my kidnapper because my real mother would have bought me that Mickey Mouse pin from the gift shop”.
But either way, this security measure is truly unfortunate for us, as Ana tends to clam up when put on the spot.
After she met his third request of “Who is this lady?” with yet another shrug and blank stare, I began to panic. My mouth smiled at her like ‘aren’t you being super silly’ but my eyes, my eyes screamed, ‘SAY MOTHER! SAAAY MOOOTHERRR! SAY IT!’ In that moment, I realized that there’s a fine line between trying to get your kid to claim you and looking like a child trafficker coercing your abductee to lie, and I was walking it.
Finally, “She’s my mom?”
A question? She phrases it in the form of a question?!?! Oh, Jesus, I’m going to the big house.
I guess sick of us wasting his time, the security officer decided that was good enough and let us go. No cavity search required.
And as we were about to board the plane, the last thing I heard on our vacation was this announcement, “Attention passengers, we are paging Joe Momma…paging Joe Momma. Would Joe Momma please come to the courtesy desk?” HAHAHAHA, that’s a classic!
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If you’re bored, go back and read Disney, Part 1 here
