It had been a long week, and by the fifth full day at Disney, family members were dropping like Lindsay Lohan at a cocktail party.
Disney World is a laid-back vacation in the same way that running a marathon is an afternoon stroll. It's hot, it's crowded, and I went from walking 10 paces a day to 10 hours a day. Needless to say, there were some side effects.
My body felt like I had mistakenly entered an arena thinking that I was going to a U2 concert, but ended up joining an NFL training camp instead. My swollen feet, normally a size 7, required a shoe horn and a tub of butter to slip into a size 9 shoe. And my back felt like I got a chiropractic adjustment from a sadist who especially hates narcissistic mommy bloggers.
Magic Kingdom closed at 7 pm on Friday, and Bailey and I were determined to close down the park. Meanwhile, the 10 smarter members of our family were sipping pina coladas by the pool.
It was 6:30 pm, and a giant black cloud hovered stubbornly over Magic Kingdom. It was about to rain cats and dogs, or in this case, Aristocats and Plutos.
We had done everything at Magic Kingdom, and I mean everything. I even talked Bailey into going to The Hall of Presidents, also known as, an educational field trip/ half-hour history lesson that is not at all interesting or fun for any 11-year-old kid on the face of the planet.
Listen, if your child has seen The Hall of Presidents, then you know that you have literally seen everything that Disney World has to offer.
I suggested that we leave before the nasty storm hit, but Bailey asked if we could ride the Pirates of the Caribbean just one more time.
And I thought, 'You know what, why not?' It will be years before the memories of my aching back and swollen feet subside enough for me to book another trip to Disney, so let's do it!
Now, I really can't explain how this next thing happened, so you're just going to have to take a leap of faith with me here.
As I was climbing into the boat, I tripped, kicking off my flip flop into the water below. And.... wooosh! The current quickly swept my shoe away to meet Jack Sparrow face-to-flop.
If being clumsy was an Olympic Event, I would have brought home the gold in in my suitcase.
Have you ever known somebody who lost a shoe at Disney World? Well, now you do.
And what's more white-trashy than walking around Disney World barefoot? I can't think of a thing. I guess that post about Honey Boo Boo inspired me more than I thought.
And to make matters worse, those dark clouds had now turned into Tropical Storm No Shoes At Disney. Pouring rain, crashing thunder, limited visibility, and a stampede of frantic adults wearing Goofy ears. Not a very good combination for a barefoot, white trash, germaphobe such as myself.
I walked up to the young lady running the Pirates of the Caribbean ride and I said, "I lost my shoe in the water. Is there any way to get it back? Is there a filter or something that catches lost items?"
"Hahahahahaha! You lost a SHOE? On this ride? How? It barely moves!"
Well, thank you, miss. I didn't think that I could feel any more stupid than I did 5-minutes ago, but you really went the extra mile. I'm sure Mickey is very proud.
Still barely able to talk through her laughter, she said, "I can't get your shoe back, but I can buy you a new pair of shoes."
Huh? New shoes? Do you hear the angels singing or is it just me?
Suddenly, all that ridicule and stepping on people's spit was totally worth it!
WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THIS BEFORE?
Okay, new plan for the next trip: Wear $2.50 Old Navy flip flops to Disney World each day, toss one shoe overboard, and get a $25 souvenir courtesy of Disney.
This is brilliant. And, it will will keep my white trash reputation in-tact. What a twofer!
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