Who wants to hear a long, detailed recounting of our week-long trip to Disney World?
Well then, you are fucking awesome. But you knew that already.
We had an auspicious start. The week before, Aitch came down with the 24-hour stomach flu. It was a Wednesday. Her first time vomiting since she was a baby. It made quite an impression on her. Of course, I’ll never forget the image when I picked her up from daycare that morning. There she was, my little girly-girl, wearing a pair of track pants torn at the knees and a grey t-shirt, both loaned to her from the daycare when she vomited all over her dress and leggings. Next to her was a wastebasket, at the ready. She started crying when she saw me. Relief? Misery? Annoyance? All of that and more? Selfishly, my only concern was that if we were all to get it, please god, let everyone get it before our trip. By Friday, Sparring Partner was throwing up at work. Two down! Two to go!
The Monday following I was feeling a bit green, but not bad enough to stay home from work. I felt optimistic about Doodicus. His somewhat anti-social habits might have been his saving grace, but Thursday he said his stomach hurt and my friend’s suggestions from Facebook to bring Ziploc bags on the plane, while met with a grimace on my end, were taken seriously. It ended up that Sparring Partner was the one to have a recurring attack of intestinal distress minus the vomiting. He didn’t feel quite up to par until our third night in Florida.
Not only were we battling illness, but Friday night, the night before our flight was scheduled to leave Nebraska, a major blizzard rolled in. We had already prepared for leaving our home and spending a night in a hotel in Omaha to avoid the early morning, two-hour drive. Thank goodness we did as we woke Saturday to eight inches of snow packed heavily on the roads, our vehicle and of course, the plane. It hadn’t been canceled (some flights had), but we didn’t get in the air until 90 minutes after our departure time. A good portion of that time was spent in the plane listening to the sound of the deicer pound away on the roof and looking at the orange slush of goop (an appetizing mix of deicer and slush) on the wings. I was a frazzled wreck.
We missed our connecting flight to Houston, but were rebooked on the last flight out and into Orlando’s airport. Instead of arriving at 5:00 p.m., we touched down close to 8:00 and locate our luggage, rent the car, and find our way to the resort in the dark. The kids, while pumped up from the day’s excitement were tuckered. They were asleep by 10:00 p.m. For me, it was much later. I cannot function out of a suitcase and unpacked everything that night and put it away in closets and dresser drawers.
Our resort room at Old Key West was as spacious as any two bedroom apartment. Maybe even more so. Now it was a bit dated (our shower stall, big enough for four, was flesh-colored; the floor was Spanish tiles), but the rooms were HUGE. The kids’ room easily fit two queen-sized beds, a dresser, table with chairs and a walk-in closet. They had their own full bath, plus a separate wash area. Our bedroom had a king and TV armoire, a seating area, plus a door to the patio. The Jacuzzi tub was in its own room. Then there was a shower and toilet. PLUS, we had a laundry room with full-sized washer and dryer. The main living space including plenty of seating and the kitchen. Not a kitchenette, mind you. But a kitchen with dishwasher, full-sized fridge and island as well as patio doors out to the third floor deck overlooking the water.
WOW!! Isn’t this all SO exciting?? I haven’t even talked about the actual park!!
We were officially Disney World vacationers.