Our "Happy Limo" driver was waiting patiently by the luggage carousal for us.
He helped us collect our luggage after Jeff parked his dad (who wanted to help..No I don’t think so) by the door.
The driver brought the car around and we piled like sardines into the
back. The limo was smaller than the one that picked us up in LA. One long row of bench seats facing the passenger side which all of us
squeezed onto, then the grandparents facing forward along the
back and Alex in a tiny jumpseat next to the door. There was a working DVD player and the kids turned on Monsters
INC.
Crammed in the limo:
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We had asked for a grocery stop so the driver pulled up to a Kash and Karry (Oh I could be wrong, but that’s kinda what I remember it being called). Grandma got out with me and shopped for her own stuff while I ran through the market at top speed trying not to keep anyone waiting for too long. I filled a whole cart in less than 5 minutes. (Water bottles, laundry detergent, boxes of breakfast cereal…. All the stuff that costs a fortune at the world but is too bulky to schlep all the way across the US)
Everyone was completely amazed that I got in and out so quickly. The only problem was what to do with the 10 bags I had purchased. The extras that didn’t fit in the trunk (most of them) ended up on our laps.
The ride there was surprisingly short thanks to the DVD that was still playing and when the driver pulled up to Old Key West, we were all in happiness overdrive. The driver helped us unload and didn't overcharge us.... a real plus
We headed up to our room on the second floor and found that Grandma and Grandpa were safely 4 rooms over. A wonderful bellmen helped us with our bags and then we headed down to resort restaurant, Olivia's, for dinner.
Tables for 9 are always hard to come by but they sat us quickly and took our order right away.
Here is a good time to mention how fun it is to eat with Grandma and Grandpa. Now with 5 kids at one house (3 being teens) you might expect that when food is put on the table they plow into it with wild abandon so as not to miss anything. But this is not the case. Unless something is left unattended and alone in the refrigerator with no one around to see them snag it, everyone usually asks if they can have the last of something. I did not raise the grandparents, therefore they did not subscribe to the decorum as everyone else in the group.
Rolls were placed on the table and by the time the basket reaches me (waaaaaaay down on the other end as far away from where the food is served as possible) there is nothing but crumbs rolling around. I wonder if I can find one of the bigger crumbs and butter it. As I am staring into the void, Grandma, her mouth full of roll, and 2 more rolls on her plate says “We’ll ask the waiter for more, I got one extra for the baby, he just loves them.”
“The baby” (as everyone calls the walking, talking 3 year old) has disappeared under the table and is studiously ignoring his rolls. No problem, grandma will help him finish.
The waiter did bring some more rolls and placed right in front of me (thank you Sir, you get a big tip). This is one of the primary reasons we never order “family style” with the elders.
After our meal, we retired for the evening to our room, bursting with the excitement of our first day tomorrow.
Bright and early (well extra bright and way too early for those of us from the west coast) and we were ready to head off to Epcot. My reasoning was it was a good way to get the grandparents, who have never been here, eased into the whole theme park routine and being a Saturday it was probably the best choice to avoid crowds.
On the bus:
Sarah & Emily
Chris and Alex:
Jeffrey and Jeff, who I am sure is saying something extremely important:
We got through the process of picking up our annual passes (cheaper than
buying admission for 9 days and this way we can come back in the next
year and its free) and headed to the entrance. It was at this point I
discovered the folly of the backpack I chose to bring. It has 5
zippered pockets.
While everyone else passed through the security checkpoint quickly and easily, I had to unzip each and every pocket while the rest of group stood around tapping their toes and scowling at me.
We headed over to the stroller rental where we discovered that Jeffrey had a previously undiscovered talent as a siren. To activate said talent, simply place him on his bottom in
any stroller rented from WDW and an up-until-now-unknown switch
activates and the loudest most persistent wail I have ever heard comes
spewing forth from his mouth. Did I mention I was not amused? Well
neither was he and after 10 minutes of me insisting he stay put and 10
minutes of everyone else in our party pretending not to know us, I
begrudgingly let him out to walk.
Did I say walk? What I intended to say was I let him out to trip people
who did not see him, to disappear without notice behind a trash can or
to decide to join another family and be happily toddling off with a pair
of legs that looked similar to our own. I was forever apologizing to
unsuspecting patrons as they danced about trying to not step on him or yelping as a small hand inadvertently touched their rear end. You do have to admit that most rears are just about the right height for
a 3 year old to goose as he reaches out trying to hold your hand.
You could always see us coming in a crowd. There was a wave of people
bouncing about trying to keep their balance or suddenly hopping in the air
as they felt a hand caressing their backside. Followed by a
wave of “I’m sorry. Oops, Jeffy, Watch Out. Oh Gosh, sorry about that. Jeffy get over here. OH I'm terribly sorry”
It was either that or the
siren.
We did somehow make it to our first ride, Mission Space.
What a beautiful gorgeous building. I LOVE space stuff. It makes me all
tingly to look at it. I am in awe. The kids are beyond excited. Everyone
is piling their things on the stroller (which has become a rolling
locker) and are making plans about who is going with who. Even Grandpa
has decided he is going.
Suddenly I do not feel so well. I need to sit. Panic has set in. I can’t
go on that. I’ll get sick. I read about all those people losing their
last meals or being sick all day. Uh-uh, no way!
I find myself being swept forward with the group and jostled into the building,
as I am trying to explain that I have changed my mind, all the while this feeling
of panic flowing through me to my very core. Everyone kept patting me
and telling me it was going to be OK. In other words no one took me
seriously. To this day I barely remember anything about the pre-show
except standing there feeling my heart pounding in my temples. Everyone
around me is smiling, laughing, giddy with anticipation. A small child
(4 maybe 5 years old) stands next to me calmly smiling and waiting. Do
these people not realize they are going to die? Or worse, puke all over
the place? I reasoned I was the only one with enough common sense to
know this, otherwise everyone else would be as panic stricken as I was.
They opened the doors and ushered us into the hallway right outside the
loading area. I had been placed in the group with the teens. Chris,
Sarah, and Emily. Jeff went with his dad and was one capsule over. Alex,
the smartest of the group, had stayed behind with Jeffrey and Grandma.
The doors opened and the CM called us to get in place. As I walked
slowly towards the door, I took one last look at Jeff, knowing I would
probably never see him again.