Back from vacation, and I'm ready to...zzz
The one thing I've always said about a Disney vacation is, "I need a vacation to recover from my vacation."
Walking, walking, and more walking! I know, I've been there before, so I'm well aware of the walking. But, daaaaang. My heel spurs were not amused. Probably didn't help that I was pushing around a 60-pound child in a stroller uphill both ways, but at least I didn't have to carry my little princess when she got tired.
In my opinion, the inclination to walk yourself to death at Disney has been made worse by that little spawn of Satan, the FASTPASS. I hate the FASTPASS. No sooner than you procure one of those priceless slips of paper, your kid inevitably screams, "I wanna ride (fill in the blank with some ride that is on the other side of the park)! Now!" So, you trudge over to the ride of choice, wait in line, ride the ride, get distracted by another ride, wait in line, and ride that ride. By this point, someone's starving, so you have to stop for a snack, totally forgetting that you have a fast-expiring FASTPASS. Then you realize you only have ten minutes left to use that FASTPASS, so you must now run, pushing aside other parents with strollers and old ladies with scooters, ALL the way back over to where you started.
Congratulations. You saved yourself thirty, maybe sixty minutes, of line-waiting. But what did you get? A cranky bunch of family members, tired from running all over creation, and a pukey kid who was careened through a crowd in an unforgiving stroller after having just eaten some sort of over-priced, mouse-shaped junk food.
And you'd think, with all the extra exercise, that I could eat some over-priced, mouse-shaped junk food of my own and not live to regret it. Well, think again. I gained five pounds this week.
The happiest place on earth? Not on my watch.