I know, it was a while ago. Early November, even. We went to the Happiest Place on Earth. (Honestly, who decided that? I mean, listen, some of my favorite movies are Stripes and Caddyshack and I read all four of the ridiculous twilight 'novels', I like chocolate frosting from a can and I'll happily go to a magically created vacation and plan a trip back, but sort of like all those other embarrassing things, I kind of feel like I should know better. But anyhoo, how did we get here?)
But, at the happiest place on earth (really, I can't give it title case again. It's just silly) girls watch shows in front of a giant castle and yell 'Dreams Come True' and just want to walk through a castle. Boys show up for pirate rides and then report about 'unexpected drops and turns' on Space Mountain. (seriously? who's 7 year old talks about 'unexpected drops and turns' on a roller coaster?) And moms get pineapple soft serve ice cream. In pineapple juice. With fresh pineapple. Wait, maybe it is the happiest place on earth...
Did I tell you my dad came with us? No, it's awesome, like having your own private tour guide. Ask him anywhere in the four parks for the nearest bathroom or best food offering, and he will deliver. This is handier than you'd think. We spent a day at Legoland without him and I was not amused at the need to search. But, back to DisneyWorld. Where else but a place called the Magic Kingdom can you get a bunch of boys to do this?
Or find a gorilla in the mist at the Animal Kingdom before eating the most amazing banana butterscotch bread pudding at Boma?
Or help your girl pick out her favorite princess? (It's Princess Aurora -- Sleeping Beauty in case you're wondering what color dress Papa will be leaving under the tree for a certain small girl this year)
But, most importantly, if you get to help your dad celebrate nearly 40 years of magic, it doesn't hurt to have these two along to dry some of the tears that may leak out along the way.