In Search of Prince Charming

Our Disney World trip had been planned for several months when my husband unexpectedly lost his job. “We have to cancel,” he declared. “Now is not the time to take an expensive vacation.” Being my usual self, I showed my mature side. Okay, maybe I behaved a bit childishly. All right, I threw a fit.

            “Years from now, the kids will remember this trip as the pinnacle of their young lives,” I said. “No amount of money could possibly be worth depriving them of seeing Mickey and Minnie, Chip and Dale, Cinderella and--” I clutched my chest “--Prince Charming.” I didn’t explain that my own parents had never taken me to Disney World and that this trip meant more to me than it did to our offspring.

            So we loaded up the minivan, tossed three children (ages six, fourteen, and fifteen) into the vehicle, and set out on an interstate journey that carried us 3,000 miles closer toward insanity.

            Our first fiasco occurred before we’d made it past the Dallas, Texas city limits.

            “What’s that noise?” I asked.

            “I don’t hear anything,” said my husband. “You’re always imagining things.  Why don’t you relax? Everything’s under control.”

            He was right, I told myself.  I’m ridiculously hyper-vigilant when we travel.

The faint flapping sounds I’d heard earlier disappeared and then, a few seconds later, returned. I recalled the suitcases we’d strapped to the overhead luggage rack. “Did you tie those bags tight?” I pressed. “Are you sure they’re not coming loose?”

            One of the teens sighed.

            “I secured them with bungee cords,” my spouse reassured. “Now will you quit worrying?”

            No sooner had he said this than we all heard an ominous whop-whop-whop, and then a thump. I spun to look out the rear window only to observe our suitcases tumbling, one by one, end over end, down the middle of LBJ Freeway.

            After we’d brought our van to a halt, I watched in horror as cars clipped and dodged the runaway luggage. Before I could yell, “Stop!” my husband bounded into the roadway to reclaim our belongings.

Right then, all I could think was, “Do we still have insurance coverage?”

            Nobody got hurt. However, our tweed suitcase suffered a nasty road rash that left its innards exposed.

            We arrived at Disney World on day two. There, we discover our crew lacked the crucial ability to compromise. Our youngest wanted to see the castle and hang out with Chip and Dale and Goofy, while the teens would just as soon have been observed holding each other’s hands. (And believe me, the only physical contact these two ever displayed occurred during combat.)

On our final day of Disney, we left earlier than planned. The children had engaged in a brawl that spilt over to the remaining family members. Having lost his patience, my spouse left the rest of us seated in the van while he paced the gargantuan parking lot. When he’d had enough of the 98-degree temperatures, he returned to his seething kin.

            “Just take me to the airport,” I said. “I’ll catch a plane home. This bunch is all yours. I can’t endure another second of this bickering.” Of course, I wouldn’t have followed through on that threat. My endurance for family friction had simply run out.

            From the back of the van came a small voice. “Can I just say something, here?” asked my six-year-old. He’d been relatively quiet through the relentless arguments about which rides to choose and what foods to eat.

            “Sure. Why not? What do you want to say?” I replied.

            “I wanted to say that I love y’all all very much,” he said softly.

            Tears flowed. Children and parents hugged. The van started, and we completed our vacation without further incident. Sometimes a declaration of love is all that’s required to save us from destruction.

            Today, all our children are grown. Already, I’ve made the trip back to Disney World with one of them—and two of my grandchildren. My husband even agreed to join me for that sequel. You see, we both believe family vacations are important because they have a way of teaching us to better appreciate home and one another.

During my first trip to Disney World, I learned it wasn’t necessary to travel 3,000 miles to see Prince Charming. He’s never been that far away. He’s the man who risked his life to save my luggage. And he’s the guy who has, on several occasions, sacrificed his sanity for the sake of a child’s happiness.

This essay was previously published in The Dallas Morning News, Sunday, July 2, 2006.

The Dallas Morning News

Free Funny Videos, Flash Video, Funny Pictures, Clean Jokes

Member

Copyright © 2005 Diana M. Estill - All Rights Reserved 

Last Updated: Tuesday, March 25, 2008 09:01 PM