After my parents died, I told my then-husband that, since he and my stepson (then 12) had never been to Disneyland, we would take a road trip down to California, go to Sequoia National Forest, and visit Disneyland.
I had been there twice with my birth family and liked it (partly because it is NOT Disney World). I had gone on the Small World ride when I was too young to know any better, and found it boring but not nauseating, being too young to appreciate its true horrors. JP, my now-ex, mentioned the ride as one of the Iconic Things, and I told him that he must at all costs avoid it, because it would make him either suicidal or homicidal, or both.
We were there on a very hot August day, and at one point the stepson had a meltdown, and I took him off to the nice deep shade of a stage show. My now-ex took himself off to some dizzy-making ride that I wasn't interested in. After the show (which was delightful), it took a strangely long time for JP to meet us at the agreed rendezvous.
It turned out he'd finished his ride, didn't think the show would be over for a while (he claimed, anyway), so . . . he had gone on the Small World ride.
I looked at him with no real sympathy. "I warned you not to."
"Yeah, you did."
"And it was as bad as I said."
He made a face and said, "Partway through, I started thinking, 'If I drink some of the water we're floating on, will it make me sick enough that they'll let me out of here?'"
I've never been to either Magic Kingdom. We took the kids to Sea World in San Antonio once, but the highlight of that for me was the fact that whe just happened to be staying in San Antonio during Fiesta, so we had a wonderful time checking out the Riverwalk during a particularly festive season. It was a bit of the Southwest that my kids would never have gotten to see otherwise.
I lived from the middle of my fourth grade year until the summer after my sophomore year at Bryn Mawr two blocks away from Playland (and amusement park with a skating rink where Dorothy Hammill learned and trained, and where the Rangers have their practice ice). Those pictures of RDA practicing with the Rangers were taken there. I kinda got amusement parks/theme parks out of my system early. Kid's love 'em though.
Other than the three trips to Disneyland (once at 12, once when I was in grad school, once when I took JP and the stepson), I think I've had exactly two visits to smaller amusement parks in my entire life.
Disneyland with my brith family was . . . okay, but very subdued. Kind of like going on holiday with a pack of Vulcans. Disneyland with my own family, as it was then -- one young-for-his-age child, one terminally immature technically-adult male -- was actually a wonderful thing. I had a fantastic time. The marriage itself was a disaster, much of that trip was a mess, but that day was great and I still cherish it.
I'll send you the parody by PM -- not because it's naughty, but because it's not nice to spread extra earworms.
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After my parents died, I told my then-husband that, since he and my stepson (then 12) had never been to Disneyland, we would take a road trip down to California, go to Sequoia National Forest, and visit Disneyland.
I had been there twice with my birth family and liked it (partly because it is NOT Disney World). I had gone on the Small World ride when I was too young to know any better, and found it boring but not nauseating, being too young to appreciate its true horrors. JP, my now-ex, mentioned the ride as one of the Iconic Things, and I told him that he must at all costs avoid it, because it would make him either suicidal or homicidal, or both.
We were there on a very hot August day, and at one point the stepson had a meltdown, and I took him off to the nice deep shade of a stage show. My now-ex took himself off to some dizzy-making ride that I wasn't interested in. After the show (which was delightful), it took a strangely long time for JP to meet us at the agreed rendezvous.
It turned out he'd finished his ride, didn't think the show would be over for a while (he claimed, anyway), so . . . he had gone on the Small World ride.
I looked at him with no real sympathy. "I warned you not to."
"Yeah, you did."
"And it was as bad as I said."
He made a face and said, "Partway through, I started thinking, 'If I drink some of the water we're floating on, will it make me sick enough that they'll let me out of here?'"
*wanders off remembering the Truly Wicked Parody*
no subject
I lived from the middle of my fourth grade year until the summer after my sophomore year at Bryn Mawr two blocks away from Playland (and amusement park with a skating rink where Dorothy Hammill learned and trained, and where the Rangers have their practice ice). Those pictures of RDA practicing with the Rangers were taken there. I kinda got amusement parks/theme parks out of my system early. Kid's love 'em though.
no subject
Disneyland with my brith family was . . . okay, but very subdued. Kind of like going on holiday with a pack of Vulcans. Disneyland with my own family, as it was then -- one young-for-his-age child, one terminally immature technically-adult male -- was actually a wonderful thing. I had a fantastic time. The marriage itself was a disaster, much of that trip was a mess, but that day was great and I still cherish it.
I'll send you the parody by PM -- not because it's naughty, but because it's not nice to spread extra earworms.