Disney, part 2

We arrived in Orlando and boarded our Disney bus to the resort.  I was a little worried about the hotel because it was listed as a "Value Resort." 

I will admit it.  I have become a hotel snob.  I think it comes from watching too many exposé episodes of Dateline . . . you know the ones with the undercover hotel guest who is armed with a black light and the ability to find peep holes (because apparently all current hotel employees were once cast members in the 1980’s movie Meatballs.)  I travel with my own blanket because I can’t stand the thought of hotel blankets touching my face, and I pack socks because I don’t like my bare feet touching the floor.

We decided, since our visit to Disney World would be short, that in order to max out our time, we would stay on a Disney property.  Hubby, the money-conscious CPA, chose a hotel listed in the Value category. 

I'm thinking something along the lines of an Econo Lodge.  Um, hello! . . . it's not prom night circa 1990!  

Personally, I would have gone with the Luxury level, but I wasn’t paying the bill.

I am happy to report that the Value resort was perfect . . . every child had his own bed (be it sofa bed or cot,) we had a kitchenette with a fridge, and there were two bathrooms (one for Mommy and one for, well, everyone else.)  Girls only.  Keep out.

And the restaurant served beer.  You know what takes the edge off after a long day at the Most Magical Place on Earth? 

A six-pack o’ Miller Lite.

We had pre-purchased our tickets to the park, and Hubby was determined that we were going to get our money’s worth.  This can be translated as follows: we are going to arrive at the park so that we are the first people in line and we aren’t leaving until Mickey himself kicks us out.  Day one was great . . . no major meltdowns.  None of the kids melted down either.  Mommy only got mad at Daddy one time, and that was when he left us at the lunch table so he could set up a chair near an outlet elsewhere, ostensibly so that he could charge his phone though what he was really doing was watching the play-by-play of the baseball game.  Everyone had a great time and we were all ready to go back for another day of overpriced magic. 

Here we are!!!

We misread the schedule on day two, however.  After spending all day at the park the day before, we woke at 6 am so that we could catch the shuttle bus over to the park.  We were TOTALLY first in line!  . . . because the park didn’t open at 8 am; it opened at 9.  We spent two coffeeless hours waiting for the turnstiles to open.  By 10 pm when the boys were dragging their feet, my legs were sore, and I was cranky could barely keep my eyes open, Hubby decided we were going to ride just a few more rides . . . you know, to max out our time.  We caught the shuttle back to the hotel after midnight.  

We were all exhausted and irritable the next day, which was when the boys and I were scheduled to fly home.  We made our way to the airport with all our luggage and our souvenirs.  After a leisurely lunch, we settled into a sitting area in the Orlando airport to wait the remaining 2 hours until our flight.  Hubby booted up his computer while the boys played on the iPad. 

Demons must have possessed his body for a moment, because no one who is married to me would have asked the following:

“Do you need me for anything?  Do you mind if I head back to the hotel so I can get started on some work?”

I could have responded with a sweet but-I-like-spending-time-with-you or honey-I-could-really-use-your-help or something equally as saccharine.  But, you see, his innocent question was about to make me batsh*t crazy.  “YES.  I.  mind.  Would YOU sit with three exhausted children in a strange airport for two hours by yourself?”

So no, he did not go back to the hotel to get started on work.

Misery loves company, motherf*cker.

When the time finally arrived for Hubby to gain his freedom us to head to our flight, we were sent through a family-friendly security line.  This is gonna be a breeze, I thought. 

We arrived at our gate and I once again discovered that we would be boarding with Group 7.  Super.  There were literally 3 people who boarded after us.  Heaven forbid they take pity on the haggard-looking mom with the three hyper children.  Sure enough, just as they called for Group 7, Small took off running.  I dropped the stroller, which I was carrying over my shoulder, my purse, and a carry-on and told Medium and Large to stay right where they were.  I went running after Small, and of course, Medium and Large ran with me, running in circles and giggling at the sight of Mommy, all persweaty and bouncing through the airport after a wayward toddler. 

Thanks for spending $7 so I could nap the entire flight!

Sigh. 

We finally boarded the plane.  I noticed this plane was equipped with televisions on the back of every seat, and for the low, low price of $7 each, all three of my boys could watch tv.  Hubby would never allow that.  Seven dollars each?  That’s a rip off! 

Guess what?  I swiped my credit card.  Three times. 

Swipe.  Swipe.  Swipe.  Best $21 bucks I ever spent.