Prospector Dances & Brazilians in Leggings

February 16, 2014.Reading time 4 minutes.

I am typing this on the last day of our vacation to the place where the mouse takes all your money. We saved, scrimped, used Christmas presents and Visa points…and now its just about gone. But it has been a fantastic trip. So why, you might ask, am I wasting time blogging on our last day?

We have come here a handful of times, and when our children were napping ages, we never went to our room for a break. We just powered through and let them crash at night. It seems the teenagers can’t do that. So during the crowded afternoon hours, we’ve been coming back to the room and napping. Only I don’t nap well – I stare at the ceiling.

They have these things now called, “Extra Magic Hours”! These hours are great for our night-owlish kids because most people leave the park around ten and they stay open until 1 am (or 3 am tonight). But they are deadly for middle-aged men. At about 11 my mind can no longer focus on much and at midnight, I get all swimy-headed, which makes some of the wilder rides more like acid trips complete with delusions like Dumbo’s elephants on parade. But it’s all good. We’re having a wonderful time and I wish it didn’t have to end.

Random observations:

1. I love multicultural experiences. I really do. I love seeing the name tags here and talking to people from around the world. If you have ever come here in winter, you know that it is summer in South America and the parks are filled with Brazilians. They fascinate me because it is hard to tell an American from a Brazilian by quick glance. Sometimes you have to get close enough to hear if they are speaking Portuguese or English. Often, the leggings give it away. The South Americans we have seen have fully embraced leggings and yoga pants, and unfortunately, it isn’t always confined to women. I don’t think that is a particularly good look for me, so I’m hoping that style trend doesn’t cross the gender line north of the equator.

2. At the end of It’s a Small World, they wish you good-bye in many languages. One of them is Arabic and the word is written: Ma’assalama. For the immature, it really stands out as a fine way to wish someone well in their journeys. I’ve used it many times to the embarrassment of the girls and confused stares of my fellow park-hoppers.

3. The prospectors dance is real gold!

In one of the late, swimmy-headed hours, I did this little jig at Thunder Mountain Railroad and my kids decided I had to do it on command for them. I’ve done it pretty much everywhere now. In fact, at Dance Time with the Incredibles, I got Mr. Incredible to join me, but Frozone was too cool for it. Oh well, he was wearing blue leggings anyway.

Back to the real world tomorrow, but I’m about to wake them up for some extra magic. I love these ladies!

The broken cat

January 28, 2014.Reading time 3 minutes.

We forgot the cat again. We didn’t forget to feed her or change her litterbox. No, we forgot to take her to the vet to get her fixed, again. The phone call from my lovely wife went something like this:

LW: Did you make an appointment for the cat?

Me: I knew I forgot something! Did you make one?

LW: No, and she’s doing it again.

Me: What? That’s impossible! She just went through this.

LW holds the phone out so I can listen to the cat moaning her bewitching taunt to any would-be boy cats in a ten mile radius. We talked about it and agreed that it had to happen. With the busyness of life, we just never got around to it. To quote a favorite phrase in our home, we got stuck in the “tyranny of the urgent.” So she hit a cycle for the second time, reminding us of her needs. Often…and loudly.

We have two old labs, one we call Toby Flenderson. If you watched The Office, you know Toby is short on personality and so is our dog. She never does much – just lays around and looks at you. She will momentarily spring to life to smell the butt or crotch of a visitor just to embarrass us. But it isn’t long before she lays back down, and looks at you. Well, the cat in heat has decided that Toby must be the one who can satisfy her urges. I don’t know why, perhaps it is because the dog is more dormant than the other one. Regardless of the fact that the dog is spade…and female, the cat has perfected a dance of love designed to woo her. She flops around in front of the poor pooch all day long trying to seduce her. Worse yet, at night, she calls out to her, waking us up with her songs of love.

She got so desperate yesterday, I think she downloaded some Barry White on iTunes and bought Toby a shot of tequila.

While most in the house laugh about this, the entire thing has been fermenting in my youngest daughter’s mind. She hasn’t had “the talk” yet. So she doesn’t know why Kitty is doing a low crawl of love across the floor. Oh, the questions! What does ‘in heat’ mean? What is fixed? Is she broken? Why is her bottom in the air? Why does she keep nuzzling Toby?

Since we’re cat newbies, the oldest has been doing research on the topic. Turns out, this might last a while as they can go into heat over and over and over until…well, you get the picture even if our youngest doesn’t.

Guess who’s going to the vet soon?