ENTERING A WORLD OF MAGIC

Click here to return to the main menu.

If you’re like me, and I hope for your spouse’s sake you’re not, then you have often wondered aloud, “Gee, I wonder what it would be like to hike Mt. Everest, all the while carrying a 30-pound Mexican jumping bean.”

And that, sir, is why the parole board will not grant you your freedom.

But for the rest of you who wonder that, wonder no more. You need not travel all the way across the world and deal with messy larval customs issues, nosirree. You can experience the exact same thrill by taking my 18-month old daughter to Disney World.

Yes, my family has returned intact from Disney, marking my daughter’s maiden voyage to the happiest place on earth, although whoever coined that slogan clearly did not do so after hitting four parks in three days.

Don’t get me wrong: we had a great time. In fact, we had a magical time, as is mandated by Disney officials. But I can safely say I have logged all of the necessary exercise for at least the next seven or eight years.

We arrived at around 9:30 the first night. While standing in line at the hotel, I found that some people did not check their frowns at the door, as my wife had instructed me to do. (When my wife gets near Disney, she is overcome with cuteness like that, and you feel like if you make fun of her, Walt Disney will smite you from the beyond. Or at the very least make the lines long.) I was standing in line waiting when the woman in front of me turned and said, “This line ain’t moving fast enough. I just need to check out. My brother-in-law’s friend got his face blowed off and we gots to get home.” Let me reiterate to important points to this story: (1) I was at Disney, a HAPPY place and (2) I did not know this woman. I am sorry for her loss, but couldn’t she have shared it with someone else, such as the total stranger in front of her in line?

Shares-too-much woman aside, we finally got settled in. The next morning, we awoke, full of gusto and ready to take on the Magic Kingdom. My daughter was very excited, but then again, she is always very excited. She cheers when she sees bananas, after all.

We met up with my mother-in-law at the park and proceeded to enter Disney for the first time in my young daughter’s life. When we walked onto Main Street, USA, I watched my daughter’s eyes to see if they would light up when she saw Cinderella’s Castle. I think a better description would be one of sheer terror as she saw a 7-foot dog strolling towards her. She quickly scurried up the first available adult and screamed “No! No! No!” Ah, Goofy – fun loving huggable character for five-year-olds, powerful nightmare generator for one-and-a-half year olds.

Once she enacted her Disney character restraining order, we were good to go. The first ride we went on, of course, was “It’s a Small World.” (Side note: OK, show of hands, who’s got that song stuck in their head now? Thought so.) She sat in wild-eyed wonder at the little characters, while I timed the ride. Do you realize that it is a 10-minute ride? That’s a long time to hear any song, much less one sung by creepy animatronic midgets.

After the Small World ride, we decided to stroll the park and take in the sights. My wife and mother-in-law decided to ride Splash Mountain, a log flume ride that drops down a steep hill and gets you soaking wet. I bravely volunteered to wait outside with my daughter and feed her Goldfish. Man, does the girl love seafood!

OK, so they were the Goldfish crackers. My daughter was in her stroller, minding her own Goldfish business, when a ruthless, blood-thirsty grackle screamed to her stroller, perched briefly on the tray, grabbed a Goldfish with its beak and flew off. My daughter turned and stared at me, as if I was supposed to do something. Hey, you’re talking about a man who has been attacked on three separate occasions by birds. I was already ducking for cover when it started its approach. My daughter continued to stare at her weak excuse for a father, as if thinking, “Of all the fathers, I get the one who’s scared of a grackle?”

When the rest of my party returned, I tried to relate the horror of the grackle incident. And you know what they did? They laughed. They thought it was funny. My child was almost dragged from her stroller, flying-monkey-style, and they laugh!?!?! Sheesh.

The rest of the day went off without any bird attacks. We rode several more rides, some with great results, others with not so great results. Tip to you future park goers: Pirates of the Caribbean is A LOT darker and spookier than I remember it. Score after day one: Nightmares 2, Daughter 0.

Next week, we will visit Epcot, MGM, and Animal Kingdom. And just wait to see what the grackles have planned for us. E-mail me at mwg1234@yahoo.com.

1