Of course, there are far worse things to be worried about. But, I am who I am, and certain things bother me.
Like next September. It bothers me already.
All along, we’ve told Shmuppie that we’d go to Disney World next September. We’ve done a good job holding her back for some time now. We got out of this year by playing the St John card. But, we said that we’d go when she was on fall break next year.
Then…SWOOP! In came my mother. She decided that she NEEDED to go to Disney this year and that she just NEEDED to take Shmuppie. So, the weekend before Christmas, they will be in FLA. The ladies and my father are flying to FLA for a long weekend. They hope to be just ahead of the holiday rush.
In less civilized times, this would have pissed me off to no end because, as always, my mother swooped in on our family activities. But, know what? JewelrySlut and I don’t think we care. Want to take her to Disney over a weekend, mere hours before the holiday insanity sets in? Have at it. We’ll stay home.
The issue of next Sept remains unresolved though. Did I fail to mention that as soon as my parents learned that we may go for a week, my mother invited herself? She more or less said that there was no way we were going to WDW ad not taking her along with us. (Sad horn noise). I responded (charming son that I am) by stating that if she insisted on showing up uninvited that she would foot the bill for the hotel/condo. As it is, they have eleventy billion timeshare points and, odds are good that unless you’re JewelrySlut, and you’re reading this, you’ve been offered to use some of them by now. Everyone we know has used these points…except us. We’ve been “given” them twice as Christmas presents, yet any time we inquired about using some, we were told no. So, if she wants to come along, I’m not paying for a damn hotel room. She can.
So, here we are; looking at a trip to WDW with what will be a 9-year old and a 2-year old…and my mother. Cost aside, this has the makings of at least 12 of my worst nightmares. Throw in a clown or marionette and I’ll be twitching on the floor.
(Did you know that marionettes are evil and they scare me? Wanna know why? They combine the following things: puppet-like appearance, more often than not, clown-esqueness, and the possibility of one day becoming sentinent. A wooden clown that has the ability to move on its own? Worst. Thing. Ever.)
I’m not sure I want to go to WDW under those circumstances. As I just told JewelrySlut, we’d be taking 3 children with us and I’d be a wreck. By about 7:45 the first morning, I’d be furious and ready to leave. By Day 4, I’d be a shell of a man; reduced to rubble. There would be NOTHING enjoyable about such a trip. Every aspect of it would be horrible. Shmuppie would behave horribly. My mother would contribute. JewelrySlut and I would fight because we’d end up turning on each other. Moo, who still isn’t sure how she feels about the big blonde screechy thing, would be pissy. It’ would be a great way to spend $3000 and a week’s vacation.
That said, I just informed JewelrySlut that I would not mind going to WDW; with her…only her. That would be fun. We’d strap on comfortable shoes and have at it.
So, last night at dinner, Shmuppie brought up next year’s trip.
“Are we going to Disney next year?”
“Well…maybe. But, you’re going next month and that might be enough for you. Maybe we could go somewhere else”
“Like…we could go back to Emerald Isle…but it would still be warm so you could go in the ocean! Wouldn’t that be fun?” (Prays she agrees)
“Yea! That would be awesome!”
A flicker of light…the light of hope was spotted in the distance. Could we get out of this? Possibly. Is it the right thing to do? Probably not.
We’re already rationalizing that we’d go when Moo was about 4. That way, she would be able to do things and Shmuppie wouldn’t be too old.
In the end, we’re kidding ourselves. We’re doomed to spend a week with my mother at the Happiest Place on Earth.