Holy shit is Disney World expensive, like way, way more fucking expensive than we thought – and we’re thinkers. I know cussing in the first sentence of a big long paragraph about Disney World is probably, I don’t know, against the law, but after spending $150 to rent a double stroller for five days (yes, the cost of a real stroller that we actually get to keep – forever), we began to realise Disney is smarter than us, and our futile plans to hold on to our retirement savings and still have fun at the park were just plain dumb. 
Okay, that is perhaps the most enormous a bit of an exaggeration, but it’s definitely pricey, and we screwed up everything by arriving snack-less, water-less, coffee-less (gasp) and fan-less, and so had to purchase all of those things to keep us from passing out from the deep, penetrating, Florida heat. 
And oh that heat, with its enticing, misty smell, so deep and hot.  The pool at our hotel is unheated, but warmer than my parent’s pool. The air is so hot it practically smokes, I’m worried it will light itself on fire, making the use of a towel all-habit and no-necessity. 
Since I can come, partake, then leave, the heat is welcome and exotic. Still, I think I understand why when I spoke to a woman at a Disney reservations desk she exhaled longingly when we exchanged weather anecdotes about our respective parts of the globe. I think I understand because during the sun’s fullness just before lunch, we stood in front of Cinderella’s castle watching Disney’s finest sing and dance about the power of dreams. (In anywhere but Disney World I would throw up in my mouth, but here, in the happiness place on Earth, I think I actually believed…) So yeah, it’s hot, singing, dancing, trickling? That’s right – right down my leg. I was frozen in horror by the instant thought that having two kids had finally caught up with me, that all that kegel shit is a big fat lie, that I was so damn happy listening to Mickey’s inspirational lyrics I lost control…  AND PEED MYSELF.  
That, or I was sweating  profusely. Fuck it’s hot – Reservation Lady, I completely understand.
Smart enough to bring my camera cable to upload pictures throughout the week, I wasn’t smart enough to bring A) the software or B) the computer the software is installed on. I could probably find it online, but that’s a pain, so I used Marc’s Blackberry and took pictures of pictures on my camera’s screen. This partial vindication I think makes me semi-smart. Maybe. 
So we got a stroller: 

"kate's squishing me" 2010

With minimal tears we went on rides: 



We paid too much for lunch for the privilege of eating at a table, with air conditioning and bottomless glasses of water: 

after lunch, dispositions better.


 We got autographs: 

all characters with fake heads don't speak. which is weird.


We saw rainbows: 

rainbow. duh.


Yes it’s hot, and yes it’s expensive, but it’s also absolutely delightful. The one thing I don’t have a picture of, the thing that sums up perfectly the reason we came, was the look on Kate’s face when arrived today. Wonder, amazement, shock, magic. Who doesn’t love magic. 

This isn’t a trip just for our children, but for our family, both in the way we delight in their happiness and in the way we’re enjoying the park for ourselves. Sure a trip to France would have been lovely, but I suspect Notre Dame Cathedral can’t hold a candle to Cinderella’s castle*, at least not for my kids.   

Another reason we’re having such a grand time:

wait time, five minutes.


*We’ve been here, it’s crazy-cool. One day my kids will feel the same way, then we’ll take them.