Let's recap Part 1, shall we? It's 1985, I'm in London, England, and I'm driving a car. In what would be an amazingly prescient moment were I, in fact, Chevy Chase, I'm stuck in a traffic circle for all eternity. I'm traumatized to the point where I vow never to drive on the wrong side of the road ever again. Ever. At least, not on purpose.
Now let's set the Wayback Machine for somewhere in the vicinity of Summer 1998. My youngest kid is 2 and a half years old. My oldest kid is 6 months shy of 6 years. We're still basking in the warm memories from our first Big Time Family Vacation, which we had taken in Springtime of that year.
Emboldened by a truly enjoyable week in Florida with 2 young kids (one still in diapers), my wife wonders aloud about 'Europe'.
"I'd love to go someday", she says. "I guess the kids would need to be a bit older".
I know where this going. It's going to be one of those conversations where we both know the right answer, but one us will have to speak The Truth aloud. It's gut-check time.
"That's a long way from home", says I, using my amazing grasp of the obvious. "The kids - the kids are kinda young, aren't they?". I'm looking for the soft landing, but Dee is not going to let me go that easy.
"Sure. You're right, they're too young. I'm mean, they were great little travelers down to Florida. But Europe, that's big isn't it?". Dee's reaching for something, I know. She wants measurable objectives. She wants goals.
So I give her what she wants. "I think we should wait under our youngest kid is, like, 10. You know, old enough to appreciate castles and stuff".
Perfect, I thought. That gives us 8 years - minimum. Not so long a wait as to be unimaginable, but not so short a time as to oblige anyone (like me) to plan or worry about anything.
That was 9 years ago. You probably think you know where this is going.
Stayed tuned for Part 3.
Friday, March 16, 2007
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5 comments:
The key to any great story is the "slow burn". I suggest making it four parts and make us wait for it. Sean Micheals didn't just up and throw Marty Janetty through that window without a bit foreshadowing now, did he? No he didn't. And once again, the squared-circle shows us the way.
Hey, I got it - EURO-DISNEY!!!
Way to go, CL!
But they don't allow you to drive in Disney parks.
You guys crack me up, but it ain't Euro-Disney.
With you, dude. But mine are going to be 13, 7 & 5 this year, so a vacation such as the "once-in-a-lifetime-damn-the-expenses on-resort Disney experience" becomes a balancing act, trying to do it while the oldest still cares and the youngest will remember.
Oh, and Chevy Chase woulda tied granny's body up on the car's roof. THEN people would have moved over for you.
Whitenoise... While I don't know your kids, you might be surprised how easy 'the balance' can be. Mine are 14 and 11, and they still go crazy for The Mouse (as do my wife and I). We hit Disneyworld pretty regularly, and each visit I fear that Teenage Girl Cynicism will pay us a visit, but we've yet to encounter that spectre where The Mouse is concerned.
Oh...and here are a few sites to get you going.
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