When Mikey got home from his mission we decided to go to Disneyland. Everyone was ready to just be together and stare at Mikey. We just say things like....."Mikey's home" every ten seconds. It feels so good...
Aren't they the greatest kids?
Raymond tried all day to put on a brave face, but he hates Disneyland....here he is begging the bus driver to take him back to the car.
This was our best story, we had lunch at Blue Bayou. And we were starving, and thirsty. Our waitress was from Mexico so Mikey had a lot of fun talking to her in Spanish. She was quite wonderful...however our bus boy...was the most unhappy guy in Disneyland. Trey thought maybe he was Micky Mouse but was demoted, and maybe it happened that day. Because he was taking it out on everyone he served. We would ask for bread, and he would never speak just grunt and slam it on the table. It was hysterical, we started asking for things to see his reaction! Trey asked for butter and as the guy was walking away he threw it on the table.....so we just kept at it......more bread, more butter, more water. We are awful, awful people, it was fabulous...
Ashleigh celebrated her birthday. We will do anything for a free desert.
Disneyland never gets old...I hope I go back a thousand more times...
Disneyland is a place to be silly, to take pictures and make memories...When I leave I am always sad, not because I will miss the long lines or impossible prices. But I think of my children when they were little...and I miss them.
Raymond still found a little to be happy about....not much, but a little.
I have to admit it was great to not have to worry about strollers, or diapers....we didn't have to stop every 10 minutes for a churro, water, or a hat...or a magic trick...or the bathroom every ten minutes. I didn't even carry a purse.
I found a cup to match my shirt...pure picture perfect...I forced Trey to take the picture...
So until we can save up enough cans to get in again, farewell Disneyland.
...we left enough money there to support a small country, but we loved it.
