How To Pull a Vacation Out of Your Ass in Three Easy Steps

Step 1: Mate says, “While we’re in So-Cal, let’s go to Disneyland for two days.” I, being very sober and financial minded, nix that proposition, but let Mate keep the hotel we’ve booked on the way to San Diego, as sort of a stopping point.

Step 2: Right before the Grapevine, realize, “HOLY SHIT! We’ve told the short people we’re going somewhere fun, and THEN we’re going to pass Disneyland on the way to the hotel, and THEN we’re going to stay in a hotel saturated with Mickey Mouse, et al, and THEN we’re going to drive two hours to Legoland? Parents have been thrown in jail for mental cruelty for less.’

Step 3: Mate gets on the computer and has his people knock over a liquor store in Monaco (I don’t know–YOU explain where we got the money for a two day pass to Disneyland!) and we take the kids to Disneyland. But not without some emotional repercussions. Shall I enumerate?

Repercussion 1: We really didn’t have the money. We both knew this. We gave the older kids twenty bucks a day, said, “That’s food and souvenirs. We eat the granola bars in the backpack, we fill our bottles with tapwater, and we soldier on.” And they were great–really great. On day 2, we ate at 11, got there at 12, and at nine o’clock, Mate finally caved and said, “I”m starving and I can’t wait until we leave. Let’s eat!” And people–I didn’t hear one word of whining. They knew we had pulled a rush job and changed all our plans-they were just so happy to be at Disneyland with their little brother and sister that they would put up with anything–even starvation and scant souvenirs.

Repercussion 2: We were so wiped after two days, that the wild animal park–which was supposed to be the big furry trip crown jewel, was really just one more hike though the heat. And they were tired. They were so tired that when we got back to the hotel about half an hour ago, they just wanted to play quietly with their Mr. Potato Heads (I said ‘scant’ souvenirs, not NO souvenirs!) and take a bath. The end. With any luck we’ll make it to the beach tonight, and I have a promised yarn crawl tomorrow (there are a lot of yarn shops on the way home–I’m hitting a couple of them, mostly to look. And to ask for stuff that shows I know my shit–like Cherry Hill Possum Sock and Wool in the Woods.) But that’s it, the kids are toasted, mom & dad are toasted, and I start school on Monday.

Repercussion 3: Yes. We did. We just killed the fucking cat so the short people could go to Disneyland. We’re such total hosers, I don’t know why they gave us a license to reproduce.

And that’s the short of it. I’ll give you some more deets on my next post, because there were some really lovely moments–revenge by Fantasmic, sleeping toddlers through cannon shots, and four year olds on Pirates of the Caribbean all figure prominently, and if you all can still stand me after the cat thing, I think you’d like to hear the rest! I’ll try for pictures, but the problem with blogger is not the picture compression nor the way I do it–it’s that Mate (or the kids) and I are always on the internet at the same time. When I upload pictures, either A. I kill his WoW character or B. The pictures don’t post–the internet decides which, and mostly lately, it’s been punishing me–probably because I have the smaller, least powerful computer. I’ll try to hit the net when it’s just me and the pix, but no guarantees!

Off for sandwiches on the beach!