Wednesday, November 24, 2010

You Gotta Believe





Disney World is a magical place where you are encouraged to believe that dreams come true. If you are a five year old girl, it is not hard to accept the fact that if you believe strongly enough, and hound your parents all year long, you will magically be deposited on the Disney bus in Orlando, bound for a land of princesses and chipmunks that give great hugs and sign autograph books, some day to be discovered by a former Princess Belle look-alike in a dusty attic trunk. I hope when that happens Willow remembers that we were there. For sure, Peter and I could never forget this special time.





Having moved Aunt Dar to Lady Lake Specialty Care Center for more therapy, we had a short drive in our now obscenely expensive rental car to Disney. Blessed with concierge level accommodations, we grabbed a soda and the boat headed to Epcot for a day with our kids and our special granddaughter as she begged to stand in yet another line to gather autographs, hugs, and to stare deeply into the eyes of yet another cleverly garbed and made up cast member who each and every five year old among us is certain is the real deal.
Mickey’s Backyard BBQ provided the opportunity to dance with your favorites while various sets of grandparents, up well beyond sailor’s midnight, stifled yawns and clicked away on their Canons, sometimes ignoring the awkwardly placed hugs bestowed by the little ones on their too-tall icons.



Upon return to our rooms in the Wilderness Lodge, we found that Santa had visited, although he had failed to adequately blow up the inflatable Christmas tree that Willow delighted in pouncing upon with more energy that I typically start the day with.
Most exciting gifts: the dollar bill found in the coconut purse and the S’mores nightlight, proving that it doesn’t matter how much you spend. I should give the dolly to my Aunt Bev who almost walked off with it along with the extra furry jacket and matching boots.



The next day we arose at what seemed like daybreak for the Supercalifragalistic Breakfast, and the opportunity to slop eggs around with Mary Poppins,
the Mad Hatter, and other assorted lesser Disney characters with the requisite Princesses thrown in to assure frantic levels of excitement.
More standing in lines with adoration exuding every pore, and a visit to the Bippeditty Boppitty Princess Salon where for a price equivalent to my total college tuition you can get freaky hair extensions or a tiara avec bun, and a bewildering choice of character dresses and glittery footwear.



And the big event that evening: The Disney Christmas Party, commencing at 7:00 and continuing (Lord have mercy) until midnight. But, included in this extravaganza were incredible fireworks with rockets turning into smiley faces, hearts, stars, and presents, snow falling on Main Street, and “free” cookies and hot chocolate served every nine yards at concession stands. Fortunately, the Little Miss lost her steam around 10:30, so we began the trek back from the Magic Kingdom, sparkling with glorious tints favored by Princesses, to our welcoming king sized beds.



The next day we spent the morning with our little one, visiting, oh yes, more Princesses, and experiencing yet one more parade. We departed around lunchtime, and surprised Aunt Dar with a visit on the way back to Redneck Country to crash before the ride back to Brunswick.



Remember, if you believe hard enough, all your dreams can come true.

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