The Dead Dwarf Theory

We interrupt this riveting play-by-play of our vacation to bring you this commercial.
(Well. It's not really a commercial. But I thought you could use the break.)

We had to drive to the airport to pick up a good friend.

Whilst (love that word) driving in Raleigh traffic, another driver casually pulled DIRECTLY over in front of us (almost ON us) without a signal. A rude hand gesture would even have been helpful.

I said, "Thanks fella! Sure... come on over."

The boy said, "Use the horn, Momma. That's what it's for."

I said, "I know what the horn is for, son." (I was thinking, "It's for waving and signaling to friends." But I didn't say it out loud.)

The boy said, "If you don't use the horn, then the little dwarf who lives in there will never get to blow his trumpet."

"Huh?" I said.

He said, "There's a little dwarf in there, and when you press on the steering wheel, a pin pokes him in the booty. The pin hurts him and scares him, so then he blows his horn."

(Now I'm worried. Not about the traffic, but about my son's sanity.)

I said, "Did someone tell you this or did you make it up?"

He said, "I made it up just now."

So playing along, I said, "What happens when people try to blow their horns and it doesn't work? What does that mean?"

He said, "It means the dwarf is sick or dead. He has to be taken out and given antibiotics or some medicine. If he's dead, then he has to be thrown away."

By this point, we were almost at our exit. Thank goodness.

I am a fan of his creativity.
He says he wants to be an author when he grows up.
I'm glad he can entertain himself by using his mind.
I just can't stop thinking about the dwarf in my car.

Part III... Epcot and the Barf Bag

I shall not discuss the weather.
I shall not discuss the weather.
I shall not discuss the..
Yeah, right.

And a warning before we start. This post may not be for the squeamish.
Day 3 was our day in Epcot, and it was the only day we didn't see people seeking medical attention for the heat. It even stormed in the late afternoon.

Here's the giant golf ball... Spaceship Earth. (Little known Disney Trivia... Even the people who work there call it the golf ball. Walt probably turns over in his grave every time.)



And here are Dan/Daddy and the boy saying, "Come ON and stop taking pictures of that big golf ball."
"That's Spaceship Earth!" I yell. But no one listens.



In the front half of the park is where you'll find all the scientific-y learningish stuff. (It's also all indoors. And AIR conditioned.) We rode a few of the rides and tried out some of the "hands-on" things.

Like launching a spaceship. Dan/Daddy and I were Mission Control and the boy was an astronaut. Our team won, by the way.



At the end of the Spaceship Earth ride, you can create a video postcard from the future and send it to yourself. So being the scientific-y learningish geeks that we are, we did it. Here's mine and the boy's...



Dan/Daddy was riding by himself, so he got the random cartoon lady in his pic...



One of the more popular rides we managed to get to was something called Mission to Mars, or the Puke-o-Rama.
It's a space flight simulator. At hearing this, I should have gotten out of line. God was telling me to get off the ride.
They strap your crew into a row of seats in a capsule. I mean STRAP you in. You can't move any part of your body except your arms and hands. And eyeballs. But I'll get to that.
You watch a little screen in front of your face, and it feels like you are blasting off to Mars. FEELS like it.
Because you don't KNOW it at the time, but your little capsule is spinning. Spinning. Spinning hard and fast enough to create actual G-Forces on your body.
Oh. My. Word.
Wanna know what my second clue from God was that I should not be on this ride?
In every little capsule, in front of every seat, is a small pouch.
Of barf bags.
No lie.
I saved mine as a souvenir.
(I didn't use it. But I considered it.)
Worst feeling I have ever had in my life? The feeling I had on that ride.
At some point, I really did start thinking about that barf bag, but I was so sucked-back into my seat from the G-Forces, that I couldn't lift my arm to my face even IF I had thrown up.
Wanna know my third clue from God? Before the ride starts, the little computer voice tell you not to move your eyeballs around; no looking from side to side.
Wanna know why? It makes the dizzy, spinning, puking sensation worse.
We met a family later in the day who had ridden Mars Mission. There was puking in the capsule around them. The ride was delayed for "clean-up." Niiice.

I was never so happy to get off of a ride in my entire life.
And I felt yucky for a LONG time after. So did the boy.
Guess we're not cut out to be astronauts.

The second half of the park is actually my favorite... The World Showcase.
All the countries and all their yummy foods. Although eating was the last thing on my mind for a while.

Acrobats in China... These little girls could bend in half, folks!


Pin trading in Mexico...


Vikings in Norway!


Hat stealing in Morocco. Just kidding. Dan/Daddy told the boy to take the picture fast so the shop owner wouldn't think we were stealing them. Check out the panic on his face...


Ahhh, Paris.



About 13 hours after the Mars ride, we had dinner reservations at the Coral Reef restaurant.

The food was excellent, but the coolest part is that you eat IN the aquarium. The restaurant's walls are these ginormous tanks of fish. Stingrays, sharks, sea turtles, and tons of fish all swim by while you're eating.
Dan/Daddy and the boy ordered fish.
I just couldn't do it. Not with all of them watching me.
I ordered steak.


Coming up... Part IV... Stop Calling it MGM, Old Man.

Part II... Animal Kingdom and Even Hotter Weather

First, a correction. And a little bit of Meteorology. (And yes. I looked this stuff up.)
The day we spent in the Magic Kingdom, the actual temperature was 95.6 degrees. With 94% humidity, the heat index was 111. Niiiice.

The next day we went to Animal Kingdom. The temp was 99.8 degrees, and the humidity was at 91%. (Wait for it. Wait for it.) That made the heat index a balmy 118.

Somehow knowing that number justifies my sweating and complaining.
Told you it was hot.

And my mother-in-law uses that word "balmy" a lot. It cracks us up, because she loves hot weather. Loves it. And I am not telling a lie when I say that she would call anything above 90 degrees "balmy."


So here we are sweating like piggies in balmy Animal Kingdom.



Animal Kingdom didn't exist when Dan/Daddy and I came to Disney the last time, so we were really looking forward to seeing it.

The big tree (don't ask me the real name) is so cool. Animal images are carved into it. There's even a Bug's Life Show down below in the trunk.




We took the Safari first thing in the morning, hoping that the animals would be out and about. They were beautiful, and unlike the Jungle Cruise in the Magic Kingdom, these guys will eat you.
Well, not these guys.



These guys...



It was obviously a productive spring in the Animal Kingdom, 'cause we got to see babies! One giraffe had given birth to twins. Poor girl.



Our tour guide told us we were some of the first visitors to see the newest baby elephant. I would say he says that to everyone on his tour, but this elephant was brand spankin' new. All I could catch was a picture of his tiny baby elephant booty. His mom and dad were doing their best to hide him.



In the walk-thru tour, we stood for a long time watching this new baby. Amazing.





One of our favorite things was Expedition Everest... a great roller coaster!



The only thing not great about it? The LINE. (Even with a FastPass.) Here's the boy, wilting on the ground.




We also saw the Finding Nemo show. Needless to say, I was overwhelmed. Again.





We ate at an African buffet, rode more rides, and drank gallons of fluids.

And we took lots of pictures. Cheesy pictures.
I am loving how the color of my face matches the car. That's what 118 degrees looks like, baby.



We even bought some of the pictures the park folks take as you're zooming down a ride or screaming at a fake dinosaur in the dark. Thank heavens they're copyright protected. Or else I'd subject you to those as well.

Coming soon... Part III. Epcot and The Barf Bag.

Part I... The Happiest Place on Earth

I wasn't exaggerating. There really are 437 pictures from our trip.
That's what happens when you don't go to Disney World until your child is 11.
You take pictures to make up for every single year that you thought about going or wanted to go. And didn't get to.

I do not intend to put them all on the blog. I like you all too much to subject you to that kind of torture.
Like the families in sitcoms who were forced to sit and watch endless slides of someone else's vacation to the Grand Canyon.
Consider yourselves warned.

I love love love anything Disney. Always have.
(Little known blogland secret... I was an official Cast Member at one point in my life...worked at a Disney Store. Oh yeah.)
This was my 4th time going. Dan/Daddy's 3rd.
But the boy's first. And that made it so much more special.

It really is the "Happiest Place on Earth." REALLY.

The week we were there, it was also the hottest. I think I may have mentioned that once or 56 times before.

The day we spent in the Magic Kingdom, the temperature was 98 degrees, and the heat index was 105. You know we Southerners are all about that heat index.

That's not sunburn on the boy's face. It's heatstroke.


Here we are waiting to ride the ride who's song will be stuck in your head ALL day. See? I didn't even have to name it, and you're singing it now.


Our dinner with Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore, and Tigger. I was so excited I barely even remember what I ate. I wasn't the only one.


This was earlier in the day... at the "Meet and Greet" with Pooh and Tigger. Before they had to go get ready for dinner. I'm a bit sad that Dan/Daddy's face is blurry in our picture. But Pooh and Tigger look great. Isn't that what matters?


I would like to say that he wore the ears out of duty and a sense of obligation to his Disney-crazed momma, but he wore them 'cause he liked them. And that made it even better!


We rode every ride, ate like food was going out of style, and had the best time.
Disney World brings out the hidden 7 year old in me. I wave to the characters (do NOT tell me they are people in costumes), I clap and scream and laugh and generally embarrass the poor folks who came with me. Just ask my husband and son.

Stay tuned for Part II... Animal Kingdom and Even Hotter Weather.

'Cause I Know You Want To See 437 Vacation Pictures...

...I am avoiding the blog.
I am also avoiding the ever-growing pile of dirty clothes.
I am avoiding a lot of things. I like to call it "Summer."

Dan/Daddy asked me this morning as he was leaving for work if I thought I could muster up enough motivation to wash some underwear. He is apparently running out.
Is that too much information?

I am blaming my laziness on the heat. The car thermometer yesterday said 108.
Glory.

I keep thinking of a line from one of my all-time favorite books. "The Secret Life of Bees." (Great read, by the way. I may read it again now that I've mentioned it.)

"If the heat ever goes over 104 degrees in South Carolina, you have to go to bed. It is practically the law."

I believe that pretty much applies to anywhere I'm living.

Stay cool, friends.

A Magic Hangover

Nope. I didn't die.
I didn't fall off the face of the planet.

We took a long-overdue family trip to "The Hottest Place on Earth."

I meant, "The Happiest Place on Earth."

Dan/Daddy, the boy, and I spent last week with Mickey Mouse and all his friends.
Burning slap up.

But boy oh boy did we ever have a good time.
It was great!
And did I mention hot?

We're visiting family for awhile, and I'll get some pictures up as soon as I can.

Hoping the start of your summer has been as wonderful as mine.
And maybe a little bit cooler.

Kill Me Now

And mail my body to the beach. Or sprinkle my ashes over the Atlantic Ocean.

And the next time I volunteer to organize and lead up 4th Grade Fun Day...

Somebody better shoot me.

I really do love helping out at the boy's school. I enjoy assisting the teacher and donating my time or energy when the need is there.

But. Oh. My. Word.
I am getting fifty 4th Graders (AND their reluctant parents) together for organized chaos in the broiling sun when school should have been out 2 weeks ago.

What was I smoking? I know what it was. I volunteered to do this back in the Fall... the beautiful blessed Fall. The air was crisp, the end of the year was a long way off, and the smell of new school supplies was fresh in my nose.

Truthfully, it's not all that bad.
I am just ready for the school year to be over and the summer to officially start.

I also have Mickey Mouse on the brain. Because as soon as I finish with 4th Grade Fun Day... I have to start packing. And fast.

Do we have enough socks and shorts and underwear for a week? (I don't know how Michele Duggar and Kate Gosslin do it.)
What about snacks? (Because my people can EAT, and I AM NOT buying a $12 Mickey Mouse shaped hot dog every 15 minutes.)
Are we gonna need rain jackets? (Because a Mickey Mouse poncho requires a down payment and a credit check.)
Can my neighbor take care of Cat#2? (And can I not feel guilty about leaving her alone or worry about her using my new furniture as a giant scratching post?)
Is Cat #1 gonna go meet Jesus while my mom is keeping her? (Because this is a serious reality at this point in her life.)

I already need a vacation from my vacation.