Dear Elli,
I don't want to go to Disney World. There is not one single fiber of my soul that finds the idea even slightly appealing. I'm sorry. I'm just being honest.
A trip to Disney World appears to be the next required developmental milestone for you. And, clearly, I am considering the retardation of your development as an All-American child. I'm sorry. I'm just being honest.
Orlando is a great place. I've been there. I know. But Disney World is my own personal idea of hell. It's hot. Without a beach. And there are lines. Endless freaking lines. With small children as far as the eye can see. Oh my God. I think I might have a panic attack.
But everyone is starting to ask. When are you going to Disney? Elli will just love it! How wonderful it will be!
You see how that works? People assume we are taking you. They don't ask "if", they ask "when". Because nice American families are apparently required to go to Disney World when their children are between the ages of 4 and 6.
I guess I didn't get the memo. Probably because I'm a horrible mother and there is most certainly a spot reserved for me at the dinner table. Right next to Satan. In hell.
But I had a weak moment yesterday. I thought about how your cute little face would light up at the sight of Cinderella. So I priced a Disney vacation. Five nights in hell for just under $4,000. At the cheap resort. With the cheap meal plan. No rental car. I'm serious. Despite the stories you hear, Cinderella is not broke and mistreated by her terrible step-mother. She's rocking Gucci shades and pushing a Bentley. She's a damn liar.
I'm really not trying to be mean. Or to rob you of your childhood. But the idea that I am doing some sort of disservice to you by not going to visit Disney World seems pretty ridiculous to me. Your overall childhood experience will probably be about the same, with or without Mickey Mouse tap dancing all the way to the bank.
And that cute little face of yours lighting up at the sight of Cinderella? That would be my memory, not yours. Because you most likely won't remember it. Just one of many more memories that we make on a regular basis. Without all the fuss. Or the lines. Or the $4,000 trip to hell.
I will take you almost anywhere. You've been on a beach vacation every year of your life so far. Because simple family beach vacations make sense to me for small children. And when you get older, I have a long list of fabulous places for us to visit. To NYC at Christmas. To San Francisco. San Diego. DC. Maine. To Rome when you are in high school or college. To Egypt if they ever quit blowing shit up over there. Big dreams, Baby!
Just not Disney World. Please. Not Disney World.
I love you. And I know that, even though I talk a big game, there is a pretty good chance that I will completely cave and take you to see Cinderella. Because I'm American. And we already bought a house in the suburbs. And an SUV with a stick figure family on the back window. So now we probably have to go to Disney World before I start taking you to soccer practice and join the PTA. After all, we are living the American dream!
But don't be fooled for a second. If I cave, I will be doing it solely to impress you and make you think I'm awesome. And so I can see that cute little face light up. And you won't remember it. But I guess that's OK. Because I will. Even though Disney World will probably kill a small part of my soul and a larger part of my savings account.
Mom
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