Day 2 at Disneyland

OK, I left you yesterday at the Budget car rental place, where we enjoyed waiting in the world's longest line to get our car. It took over an hour, and was therefore a perfect warm up for a trip to Disneyland, where waiting in line is the single most popular activity. It's true. People like waiting in line so much that whenever they see a really long line, they rush over to get in it. "This must be a great ride!" they whisper happily to their children. But the joke's on them, because the whole thing is an elaborate prank being perpetrated by members of the rec.arts.disneyparks.wait.wait.wait Usenet group.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. All I want to tell you is that on Monday, after getting up at 6:00 in the morning, departing for the airport at 7:30, getting on a 9:30 flight, landing at 12:00 or so, spending an hour waiting to get the car and another hour driving to Anaheim and another hour eating lunch while we waited to check in to our room, the Buxoms did not then rush right out to hit the parks. No, we lay around in the room like four sacks of potatoes. Why?

BECAUSE WE'RE LAME.

We were in bed--literally--at 7:30 p.m. California time, which, I hasten to add is 9:30 Chicago time. This meant that today we were up in plenty of time to take advantage of the super-early park hours for hotel guests. But did we? No, we sat around in our room eating room service breakfast.

BECAUSE WE'RE LAME.

Then we went to Disneyland. We went on two rides and visited one show. That was enough. It was incredibly crowded and the wait for the Finding Nemo ride was an hour and a half long. So we left. We went to lunch at the House of Blues restaurant.

BECAUSE WE'RE LAME.

Then some of us went back to the hotel and some of us went shopping--because we're--that's right

LAME.

Then Popette and I went to get our nails done. She got red toenails with white polka dots, just like Minnie Mouse's iconic dress. Because she is stylish and fun and

NOT LAME

unlike her mother who got boring red polish on her fingers. Which is

LAME.

And then we had dinner with Joke and his wife and sons. And Poppette, who is not

LAME

prodded us into going on this really big high scary Ferris Wheel and she screamed with delight the whole time while we, the grown-ups cowered, trembled, whimpered, and wet our granny pants in abject terror.

And after that paltry one ride, it was back to the hotel for the

LAME

likes of us. And so

LAMELY

to bed.