Just got back from a visit to the Happiest Place on Earth with some dear friends. Allow me to introduce the new characters:
The Bug - 4-year-old cute little girl
Shortstuff - 17-month-old cute little boy
The Reverend J - Father of the Bug & Shortstuff
The Reverend M - Mother of the Bug & Shortstuff
RJ, holding Shortstuff in his arms: "I need a new teeshirt."
Me: "We haven't even made it in the gate yet."
RJ: "I just got peed on."
The Bug, the Wee Lassies, Miles and I head over to Tarzan's Treehouse.
The Lassies charge ahead and quickly disappear. I'm holding the Bug's hand. Miles offers her a
lift, but she wants to climb the stairs herself. The Bug solidly
marches up the stairs, the grown ups before and behind. After about 3
flights, the kid is fine, but I'm sucking wind. Miles looks at me, grinning and puffing,
and says, "Reminds me of Notre Dame in Paris. '400 steps. No lift.'"
The Bug, presented with a plate of pasta: "I need a fok!" (grabs fork and begins singing gayly) "Fok, fok, fok, fok!"
RJ & Me: ...... (clamp mouths shut/completely lose our shit)
The Wee Lassies, the Bug and I are watching the parade from the dining patio at the Plaza restaurant. A small boy, maybe 4 years old, moves close to see past the hedge.
I glance over at his grinning father to see if he's ok with this. I get the nod. "There's room for you, sweetheart," I tell him. "C'mere." I pull him in and keep my arm around him to make sure he doesn't slip off the short retaining wall all the kids are standing on. He is completely comfortable, leaning against me and talking with me about what we're seeing, like he's known me for years.
The parade is way cool and we are all yelling and pointing at The Genie from Aladdin, Mickey, and the Princesses, when I feel a tiny hand on my face, turning it. I look down at the small boy and he says, face serious, his huge brown eyes on mine, "I have to go and I wanted to say goodbye."
I'm waiting for RM and Shortstuff to catch up to me when a man 10 yards away suddenly pitches forward, head-first, towards the pavement. Another man catches him by the arm before he hits, and lowers his jerking body to the ground as an older woman comes running up, shrieking in abject panic, "Baby! BABY! He's seizing! BABY!!! MY BABY!!!"
We are rooted to the spot, horrified at the emergency unfolding.
RM: "We need to call 911."
Me: "The First Aid station is right there. They must have paramedics on duty."
Sure enough, Disney folks come a-runnin'. The woman continues her heart-rending screams. The paramedics hustle over. They wade in and the woman stops shrieking.
Not wanting to gawk, we moved on, rather shaken.
Mid-day, foot sore, we head out the gate to over to the Grand Californian Hotel. The lobby is gorgeous, very Arts and Crafts: huge fireplace, solid and comfortable oak sofas and chairs, stained glass chandeliers. We plunk ourselves down and send the men for refreshments. My girls make a beeline toward a large screen TV that has around 20 miniature upholstered wooden rocking chairs in front of it. Disney cartoons are playing in an endless loop. The Bug heads for a table staffed by eager young folks who offer coloring pages and have a big copper mailbox to send your picture to Mickey. Shortstuff demands to get out of his stroller and munches Cheerios while trying to escape. Miles and RJ return with a couple of Kir Royals for the womenfolk and we all put our feet up and rest. It was a major act of will to get my butt off that sofa.
Standing in line for It's A Small World. RJ has his son in his arms. We're chatting, pointing out all the moving stuffs on the front of the building to the kids, singing that infernal song.
RJ, holding Shortstuff at arm's length: "He got me again."
Standing in line at the Teacups. Just the girls, Miles and I, 'cause RM threatened to throw up if she got on. A father and daughter in a pink teacup. Her dad was crouched over the wheel, spinning it with everything he had. The girl was splayed out on her side of the cup, clinging for dear life, long hair flying like a flag in a gale. They were both laughing like maniacs.
We were next. Aeron choose the teacup, we got in and when the ride started, Miles did his very best to spin that thing at 450 RPMs. We all laughed like maniacs.
RM was right; us grownups felt a bit green when we staggered off.
We leaving the park just as the fireworks start. We are all pooped out. Miles parks our rented stroller and begins grabbing the stuff we had stuffed in it.
Miles, holding up a baby bottle and a couple of diapers: "Um. This isn't ours.
Everyone else: "Oh, no!
It is discovered that Claire's new stuffie, a Cheshire Cat with a very long, fluffy tail, is gone. Blue eyes got huge and a lower lip began to tremble.
A nice young staffer, maybe all of 19, approaches us and asks if he can help.
Miles: "Somehow, we must have switched strollers some where and my daughter has lost her Cheshire Cat."
Disney Guy: "Lost and Found is right over here. Let me take you and see what we can find out."
Claire, trying not to whimper: "Daddy.....?"
We all head to L&F. No sign of the Cheshire Cat. The nice Disney Guy whispers to me, "if it's not here, we'll get her a new one." I give him a relieved smile.
Disney Guy, aloud: "Let me go check something. Do you have 10 minutes to wait?"
We all nod.
While he was gone, we watch the fireworks over the trees. Claire and Aeron both lay down on the bench next to me and rest their heads in my lap.
Disney Guy comes back, hands me a voucher to get a new stuffie. Going back into the park is not a very appealing prospect. Disney Guy said the World of Disney Store on the way out has everything and more that they have in the park. We go there.
They didn't have the exact same stuffie, but we found a (more expensive) pillow pet. The voucher covered it and I make a big fuss about how lucky she was that she got an even better Cheshire Cat. Lucky for me, she buys it. (Secretly, I was a little disappointed we didn't have the original) Claire handles it all very well. Not a single tear. I am proud of my girl.
We take the tram to get back to the cars. Two rows in front of me, I swear I see Richard Hatch.
Every child is asleep before we get out of the Mickey and Friends parking structure.