The Traumatic Parenting Workshop ended the summer with a road trip. Destination: Orlando for a surprise visit with a certain mouse and all of his princess friends. My lovely red headed wife and I had been planning it for months.
When the day of wonder finally arrived, our first stop was Belle’s Enchanted Castle. Not surprisingly, I was the first one selected for the audience participation portion. I was attempting to get the Snowflakes excited when I was recognized for my natural enthusiasm.
We had been marching in place. I guess I was doing it with conviction.
Assigned the role of “knight #1,” it was my job to guard the door where Belle would make her entrance. Our guide (stage manager?) also asked if I could scream when she called on me.
Can I scream? Sure. Just one question though: what’s my motivation?
I suppose some of us tend to buy into the magic more than others.
Yeah, I need to know when I was being asked for more of a “leave your sister alone” kind of scream or a “the walls are bleeding” sort of scream. Okay, it turned out to be more of a “look at the ferociousness of the Beast” type of scream. I guessed I could figure that one out when the time came.
And when the moment arrived, I delivered my line as requested. The Snowflakes were delighted.
I’m a believer. I do believe Disneyworld is a place where dreams come true. Any look at the Snowflakes’ faces during our visit would’ve confirmed it. Other than the fact they ate nothing but chicken fingers and french fries for the entire trip–including the week leading up to Orlando that we spent in Key West–and a tantrum involving a doll, I wouldn’t have changed a thing… other than to stay longer.
I think the Snowflakes would have liked that too.
And yes, the doll tantrum will undoubtedly be the subject of another column.