Jun. 25th, 2011

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I already apparently started a little thing on FB for saying so, but people, Disney's Magic Kingdom is for kids. If you look around and you're standing in the Dumbo line and there is no child with you, you need to step out, grow up, and hop the bus over to Universal. Yes, it still counts if you are wearing bridal mouse ears. Being a bride means you are an adult, not a child, and the small children who are standing in a 45-minute line to ride a flying elephant actually have a good reason to be there. You don't. Wanna ride Space Mountain? Okay, sure. But making toddlers wait two hours for Peter Pan because you wanted to ride for two minutes in a flying boat? Dude, seriously.

It's insanity, y'all. I couldn't get over the number of adults who were bumping kids (not just my kids--you know how long I'd put up with that) out of the way to get to rides first, or in character lines. More than once I spoke to adults--P started laughing when I told one couple, "If it's important enough to you that you need to trample my four-year-old to get there first, you go right on ahead"--about pushing and general craziness.

Oh, and don't EVEN get me started on strollers. Everyone knows I hate strollers. Haaaate. Hate so much that I think they should be banned from public places like festivals and malls hate. Don't whine to me about why you need yours; I don't care. But you know what's even worse?

Eight-year-olds in strollers.

Seriously, the place was awash in kids bigger than Anya (by a long shot) in strollers. If the kid's knees are up by his ears, tell him to get his ass out and walk, or head back to the hotel for a break. And no, I'm not going to believe that all those kids are asthmatic or had sprained ankles or whatever other justification people will likely have for it, because most of them were just lazy. A lot of them were significantly overweight, and several had DS handhelds pressed to their noses as they were pushed through the Magic Kingdom. Forgive me, but if I can be both pregnant and handicapped and walk all over the damn place from 9 am until 8 that night, anyone can. There's just no excuse, and most of those kids in strollers could seriously have used the exercise. There aren't even any hills, y'all.

I think people put such huge pressure on themselves to have the Best Time Ever at the Happiest Place on Earth that they lose it; either that or these families don't like each other all that much anyway. We saw kids hitting their parents, screeching parents demanding that the kids "have fun or else," the meanest-faced little girls in princess dresses, all of it. Granted it was hotter than death, but still.

It compromises people's judgment, in many ways. They lose basic parenting skills, along with common sense. Too tired to walk? We paid hundreds for these tickets! Rent a stroller instead of telling the kid his choices are to walk or go back to the hotel! Oh, did your kid (or you) get a dark red sunburn yesterday? It's fine! Those tickets were expensive! Just go out again!

Personally, I find that sunburn hurts like a mofo, and therefore I avoid it for myself and my kids. I sprayed those kids down with sunscreen every hour. I was shocked at how many people were out there with obvious second-day burns. It's not just horribly painful, but no amount of sunscreen matters that second day, and if you aren't careful your dumb ass is going to wind up in the hospital with sun poisoning. But no! You MUST GO INTO THE LIGHT and follow the Mouse, because you're from Ontario and mortgaged the house to get here! Evidently it is something of a news flash that the sun shines in Florida.

It's craziness. P and I did spend a lot of time chuckling at some of the madness, and even Ez pointed out that "there are some baaaad kids here at Disney." We made it through without any fits or major incidents--although Miss Sassymouth did get her visor confiscated for two days--and actually enjoyed each other. We did the Magic Kingdom, Cocoa Beach (sans jellyfish, fortunately), and the Kennedy Space Center, which of course made me cry (NASA is not subtle with the funeral imagery for the Shuttle Program). I'd be lying if I said it didn't delight both P and me that the kids agreed that they liked the Space Center even better than Disney. If we ever go back it'll be in the spring again, but I think we can kind of do a been-there-done-that on the big MK and at least hit EPCOT or something instead. I don't hate Disney; I hate the other people there. :)

Anyway, we're home. Nobody is sunburned. Anya located her foot necklace (remember that Terrible Tragedy?) at the country house, and the outlaws ensured that I am now justified in Never Speaking To Them Again, so all is well in my world, although it is a little tiresome to return to a $432 veterinary bill for the furry ones, who got their shots during their stay. The children ate so few vegetables this week that I'm concerned for the welfare of their intestines. I held up pretty well physically, although I don't think I'm going to walk at all for the next day or two. (At least not until Tuesday, when we hike out to go blueberry picking, because I am a glutton for punishment.)

Pictures later, after I sort through all gazillion and decide to which I'll subject you.

Miss me? What'd I miss? Besides that escaped monkey thing, and yes, I figure the CDC ain't telling us the whole truth about that either.

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