Where did the hovercraft go?

hovercraft

How sweet it would be to vacation without any concern for money.  In my life, we rely on grandparents for the really big stuff.  And if they don’t come through, it’s ugly.

Lisa once told me she wasn’t going to spend thousands of dollars going to Disney World and then spend the whole week listening to me moan about every Diet Coke she ordered.
I don’t think I really moaned.  I was just thinking about sending the kids to college.

“So, you gonna order another Diet Coke?” or would you prefer we send DJ to college?

This past trip, we lucked up. My brother-in-law, Matt, has a cousin who works in the park.  She hooked us up!  A MAJOR discount for ahhh, well, extended family.  Very extended.  I mean, didn’t we all come from Adam and Eve?

It was nice because we got the meal plan – so your drink came with it (no worry about the extra Diet Cokes.)  And my kids knew better than to ask for add ons.  Two square meals a day and a snack – that’s what was included, so that’s what we ate.

I’ve always enjoyed the mouse, but I think this year they’re sort of slipping a bit.

As we were driving in, one of the thousands of buses that transports the hoards had wrecked. Thankfully, we weren’t on that bus, but the crash did divert our course. We had to drive through a back lot to get to the main road which led to our hotel.

It was a mess back there:  Tilt-A-Whirl parts, a broken down bus, stacks of wood, chain link fence – looked like the back gate at the NC State Fair.  The place where the Pig Racers camp for the week.

I don’t want to see that.  It’s like your grandma’s underwear.  You know she’s got ‘em but you certainly don’t want to see them.

The Monorail was “Out of Order” three times during our short stay.  Heck, that’s the main reason I go.  It’s the closest I’ll ever get to riding in a hovercraft like in Star Wars.  And by day 3, one of the trains had disappeared.  I could tell because they’re color coded, and a new one was puddling around the circle.  It rides on a huge concrete track!  How did they move it? Where did it go?  Did it break and fall off in the lagoon?

I think some funky stuff happens at that place once the park closes.  Mickey Mouse walking around naked and stuff.

On the bottom side of the monorail track at the Transportation Center in the Magic Kingdom, a permanent sign that read, “DANGER, HIGH VOLTAGE,” had been replaced with a large sign that looked like it had been printed on a bubble jet.

I did that once at the Y and got in trouble. My sign read, “Please don’t spit in the shower.” A member asked me to put it up, and I was trying to be customer friendly.  Apparently some mannerless dude had hocked one right there beneath the Kohler Medallion 5-Sprayer showerhead.

Finally, the afternoon we headed to the airport, we walked outside of our hotel to wait for the airport shuttle and right in front of us was an enormous puddle of vomit. Probably too much Diet Coke followed by the Tilt-A-Whirl.

At any rate, the chunkiness sat there for the entire duration of our wait, like 20 minutes. People were nearly walking through it.

Now don’t get me wrong, customer service in central Florida still outshines the majority of other places I go on a weekly basis, and the grounds and facilities are very nice. Most importantly, we had a fantastic time. I was just surprised to see these few blemishes.

Perhaps I’m just getting cynical. Or, maybe they knew I was sliding in without paying full fare. You get what you pay for, huh?

Advertisements

A Bug in the House

Most of the time I love being the father of three kids.  In fact, there was a time that I wash pushing for a fourth.  I just really enjoy being a dad.

However, last Sunday night, my enthusiasm for parenting waned a bit.

It started as a lovely evening as I watched the girls in our church’s annual Christmas pageant.  At the pimento cheese reception following the service, Stephanie asked if we could grab a quick dinner at a nearby Mexican restaurant – and take four of her friends with us.

Seeming like I’m always saying no, I surprised her, “Sure, I’d love to.”  She was giddy.

All was good with las adolescentes sitting at an outdoor table can tacos and Michelle and I inside with another family from church.

Approximately ten minutes after arrival, Stephanie flew up to my table, “Dad, somethings wrong.  I’m going to throw up.  We gotta go now!”

“You sure?”

“Daaad, I know when I’m going to puke!  Yes, I know!!”

We arrived home at 6:55 pm.  Her regurgitation began at 7, several of her friends still waiting for their rides.

“Ahh – Stephanie’s vomiting in the bathroom.  Anyone want more salsa?”

I settled her in my bed with a towel and a plastic trash can.  Michelle took nurse duty, while I ran to pick up DJ from another social function.

I drove up.  DJ opened the car door.  “Dad. I feel like I’m going to puke.”

Great  –  a gaggle of gaggers.

At approximately 8 pm, there were two, each vomiting in 20 minute cycles.  I worked hard to keep a clean trash can by each one’s head to avoid up chuck on the furniture.

Michelle actually got tickled as she watched me rapidly cart barf from room to room.  And to her, it was funny…

Until 11 pm.

She didn’t call for me,  I just sensed something was up.

I dashed up the stairs, she’d clearly been asleep.  She sat by her new creation, a zombied look about her face.

Oh baaby.  Couldn’t make it to the bathroom?”

No reply – still in a daze.

The more they spewed, the more nauseous I became.

“Is it possible to vomit and diarrhea at the same time?”, one of my daughters asked.

“Yeah.  Two exits, no waiting,” I replied as I ran for more towels.

Stephanie finally fell asleep at midnight; DJ at 1.

Michelle threw up every 25 minutes, without exception, until 6 am.

I’d put my head on the pillow and nearly get relaxed when I’d hear the beginnings of the heave.

There goes the trash can, then the gut grumbles, followed by the actual act.

Thankfully, I have an immune system made from steel.  I nearly bathed in the stuff but never caught the bug.

Once I think I’ve been through every parenting scenario at least once without Lisa, a new one rears its head.  I don’t think I’m ever going to master this.