My friend, Andrea, just took her family to Disney World, and I feel so bad for her.
I HATE Disney more than you can imagine. (I know: I'm going to hell; but, quite honestly, if this is the thing out of everything in my life that sends me to hell, I'm alright with it.)
Danny and I took our kids AND MY MOTHER to Disney a few years ago. You can't even begin to imagine how much I dreaded it. I'm not a Pooh sweatshirt-wearing kind of girl anyway, and all those giant rodents and sickeningly sweet princesses walking around totally creep me out.
But I try to be a good mother, and I knew I had to take the little one to Disney because it's just a rite of passage. I didn't go happily though, especially when I realized that we had to put my mother in a wheelchair and push her around the Magic Kingdom in and out of the crowds I knew I'd want to kill (yes, I took my anti-depressants), and the whole time I would be in the miserably sweltering Florida heat.
So my bad attitude and I packed everyone's bags and headed off to the airport.
We didn't even get onto the plane before the nightmare began. My mother had bilateral hip replacements, so she had to go through the "special security" line. Fine, except that she also has Alzheimer's and started yelling that she wasn't going without me and the TSA agents weren't touching her.
We were yelling at each other across the security section of the airport. She yelled she wasn't going; I yelled to be quiet and I'd be over in a minute. Everyone was looking at us and I know they were thinking, "I hope that trash doesn't sit next to us." I don't blame them.
We finally made it to Florida and to Disney. It was hotter than Hades, I had the old lady in the wheelchair and was hitting people in the horrendous crowd every time I pushed. On top of that, I was putting sunscreen on someone every five minutes. I was miserable, and I hadn't even been there a half hour.
Then something beautiful--dare I say, a gift from God--occurred: I found out that if you have someone in a wheelchair the whole party goes to the front of the line! (Cue angels singing, "Hallelujah!")
THE FRONT OF THE LINE!!!
It was pure Nirvana. (Except that the workers at the Haunted Mansion got quite testy because I couldn't get my mother out of the cart in time and they actually had to stop the ride, which, I found out from the screaming going on about us, never happens.)
So we went through the whole Magic Kingdom in about two hours. It was fantastic! We spent the rest of the day riding Space Mountain--over and over and over again!
Later on that night when my mother was rushed to the hospital......
Seriously. She had some sort of attack in the hotel room and had to be rushed to the hospital that night.
When we got to the hospital, Danny walked in, looked at me and jokingly said, "Could your mother POSSIBLY f**k me anymore than she already has?" When the man has a point, he has a point.
By the time the doctor walked in, I was crying. The doctor asked me what my mother had done that day, and I told him. He said, "You made her ride Space Mountain the whole day?"
With terror in my eyes, I blathered, "Wheelchair...huge rodents...hot...miserable...sunscreen...front of line....
Turns out she was okay, but she had to be hospitalized.
Consequently, I laid around the hotel's pool and didn't go to Disney the next day. I will NEVER go to Disney again without a wheelchair!
So, Anj, the next time you go to Disney, break one of the legs of your beautiful daughters and get her in a wheelchair!!!
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