Last year my mom wanted us all to go to Disney World. I thought she was crazy. I didn't see the value for the dollar and it seemed like an over-crowded over-priced rip off. I had friends who went to Disney World without their children, and other friends who went more than once a year. I honestly thought they were a little nuts.
Slowly last year, though, I started to feel a faint stirring in my chest, a growing yearning to take the kids to the Happiest Place on Earth. I asked questions, made plans, but I still hadn't drank the Kool-Aid.
|Come to Disney!*|
I knew plenty of people who were full on Disney Cult members. It seemed like everyone who had been to Disney was as eager to talk about it and offer advice as any new member of a self-help group or weird diet regimen. They were a little scarily enthusiastic.
Then I went to Disney and I drank the Kool-Aid and joined the cult. If you see me coming, run from me like you would run from some selling Amway. I am liable to hold you hostage until you, too, agree to go to the most wonderful place on earth. I can't speak clearly. I stutter. I am so filled with the wonder I lose my ability to form complete sentences. And I'm secretly planning my next trip back to the land of the mouse.
|Drank the Kool-Aid, Bought the Ears|
*Kool-Aid image courtesy of Wikipedia