And, Please, No Flash Photography (Unless You Really, Really Want to & Are Special)

1 May

Mr. Untitlement was off with our youngest son this weekend, so elder boy and I decided to have some special mother-son time at Disneyland. Always good for a list, if not a laugh.

  • First special moment: sitting in gridlocked traffic, staring at the carpool lanes that are supposedly under construction — empty except for the projected rage of a thousand thwarted motorists.

At Disneyland

  • Number of times strollers ran over my feet: 3
  • Number of times I was struck in the face by a sabre: 1 (but isn’t that all it really takes?)
  • Choice moment of sweetness: Sharing a frozen strawberry lemonade with my son on a shade-dappled bench, and having a butterfly land on his hat. Then watching him stand still as stone, hoping to lure the butterfly back, once it flew away.
  • Opposite of sweet moment: Waiting in line for Peter Pan and watching a man get divebombed by birds that proceed to peck the top of his head in wrath. Their nest was behind a sign for the ride, and apparently the top of his head looked pretty darn predatory. (They bothered no one else.)
  • Best Q & A: Stranger staring at endless procession of dead-eyed, shuffling tourists: “What’s this the line for?” (It was verrrrry long and slow.) Me: “To get out of Adventureland!” (They’re building some dastardly arena for a new Pirates of the Caribbean show, and pedestrian traffic was being tightly controlled, a.k.a. clogged up).
  • First regret: Accepting a table in the sun at Carnation Café on a hot day.
  • Second regret: Allowing my son to sit on my white cotton over-shirt when he complained how hot his seat was.
  • Third regret: Ordering a large Orange Fanta, although it came in handy when our forks were too hot to touch — a quick dunk into my drink, and they no longer branded our fingers with cutlery shapes.
  • First moment of Eeee!: Reaching for the crayons they set out for my son ten minutes earlier, only to find THEY’D MELTED!!! I wound up with blue goo all over my hands.
  • Second moment of Eeee!: Son borrows Fanta while I deal with crayons. Son spills Fanta everywhere, including his cotton shorts and my shirt that he was sitting on. Mmm…sticky. And ever so attractive. Especially combined with my blue-goo covered fingers.
  • Best overheard observations: Woman sighs as we enter It’s a Small World. “Ah, it’s an air conditioned world, after all!” Her companion, upon leaving the ride — “That’s the first ride we’ve been on that lasted longer than its line!” It may be the only one that can claim that honor.
  • Random laugh: Watching the diamond in my wedding ring glow under the black lights in Peter Pan.  Some diamonds fluoresce like that. We first discovered its special powers while touring a cavern  in Arizona. The guide turned off the lights so we could all develop recurring nightmares of a place where you can’t see your hand in front of your face, no matter how long you wait. Then, just as claustrophobia (or whatever you call it) started to seize us, the guide turned on a special light that made some of the cavern’s rocks glow like a black velvet Elvis painting — including my ring. It seemed magical. You know. In the way that roadside tourist science always does.

We had a great time, despite the crowds and the heat. We ended the day with a frantic trip to the grocery store to buy as much fruit salad, fruit juice, fruit sherbet, and fresh berries as we could. I couldn’t imagine ever having enough fruit. The product of theme park dehydration, I suppose.  We dined on big bowls of mixed fruit and drank the sherbet-juice-soda punch I made.  Now I’m ready for a late night fruit snack, and maybe some more of that punch.  I feel as salty and dry as beef jerky.

One Response to “And, Please, No Flash Photography (Unless You Really, Really Want to & Are Special)”

  1. Sara May 2, 2011 at 13:57 #

    Sounds like a wonderful and special day!

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