So, this trip to Disney world is coming up soon, and we’ve finally got the Mini actually looking forward to going. Somehow we convinced him there are no tigers, and have been watching movies and reading any sort of literature we can get our hands on. The problem is… now he wants to go on all of the rides he can’t go on.
But hey, silver lining and all that, he’s no longer worried about tigers.
Prior to having children, when it came to planning trips, I had my shit together. I still have my shit together, when it comes to making sure we’re adequately prepared with the necessities, like diapers, meds, Tubby, blankies, the kitty du jour (seriously, my daughter’s addiction to stuffed cats, is starting to become insane). But I’m not good on the other end of planning. What are we going to do when we get there? Usually, when I go on vacation, to me, a vacation means a mental break from every day life. I have to plan to…relax? This is just weird to me. I like to just go with the flow. I know this surprises people who know about my anxiety induced need for control.
With Disney World, however, you apparently need to have your shit organized, and planned to the very last minute. I knew there needed to be some planning involved. I just didn’t realize how much. And when I got that panicky feeling, like I should be doing something about it, rather than like, going with the flow, there was only one person in my mind, that I needed to turn to: The Disney Freak™.
The Disney Freak™, also known as my friend Julie (Hi Julie, I told you I was going to blog about this), is one of those people that knows everything and anything about Disney World. She’s probably even seen Disney’s underwear (aka, the secret underground DIA (which would be the Disney Intelligence Agency, duh), which are the people that come out from under a secret trap door, that’s hidden under a bush, to clean up the empty cup someone threw on the ground. And they do it all without you ever seeing it. I think this is what they call “The Disney Magic”).
I used to make fun of her relentlessly (out of love, of course, because hey, whatever makes someone happy, who am I to judge?, But seriously Julie, you realize you have a sickness right? I mean, you’ve seen Disney’s underwear for god’s sake). The hubs likened her to “that guy” that you knew. You know the one with the bomb shelter, and you’re all, doing that crazy in the head motion, but then you know, the nuclear fall out happens, and all of a sudden, you’re like, crawling over on your hands and knees with a side of humble pie.
And of course, because I’m appreciative of her expertise in all matters Disney, I came over with my humble pie, and she sent me home with more shit than you could imagine.
I don’t know why she doesn’t just become a Disney Travel Agent. Also, I know she secretly wants to work at Disney World someday. She didn’t tell me this, it’s just implied.